Harry Potter And The Blood's Curse
by jhanny6
Summary: COMPLETE. A smarter Harry as a result of an OC being introduced. Starts from year 1 and works through all years. Mostly the book universe, with some tweaks where I feel it's logical. M is for violence and to protect myself so that I have more room to write how I feel the universe would work.
1. Chapter 1

Harry swallowed heavily as he walked down the crowded corridor of the Hogwarts express, scanning about for an empty, or at least friendly looking, compartment. Everywhere around him were students sharing heartfelt welcomes, excitedly catching up on the holiday news and new gossip. A soft babble of voices seemed to follow him wherever he went, but he was nonetheless unimpeded as he made his way down the train. Harry wondered how he was going to cope at Hogwarts, without any magical upbringing or background, but from the looks of the parents on the platform and from the clothes that many of the children on the train wore, he would not be alone in that fact.

Eventually, he came across a compartment with one single occupant, at the very back of the train. Harry knocked on the door, pulling the other boy's nose out of his book, and upon seeing the small smile and the subtle wave, he opened the door and sat down. The other boy offered his hand as Harry sat, and spoke as they shook;

"I'd be glad to have a quiet compartment if I were you," he said, "I'm Hal."

Despite appearing to know who Harry was, the boy politely waited for him to introduce himself, which Harry noticed seemed to be a theme about this child. His robes were evidently expensive, but not ostentatious, and his chestnut hair and silvery eyes seemed to paint a picture of quiet wealth. He also appeared to know etiquette; a pure blood, reasoned Harry. Despite this air of regality there was an unsettling aspect to his demeanor, some suppressed self pity, reminiscent of a routinely kicked dog. Before Harry could dwell on this, the boy spoke,

"You'd probably want someone to explain about Hogwarts, seeing as how you grew up around muggles. I can't imagine you learning about the houses or classes with them as your parents."

Harry nodded in agreement, and listened as Hal carefully explained Hogwarts to him. From Arithmancy to zoomancy, Harry listened as one in the presence of a learned teacher, drinking the knowledge of quaffles and wands and feasts in as one in a desert drinks from an oasis. The speech was interrupted three times, once by a blonde girl who curled up on the seat next to Hal and listened along with Harry, and once by the Trolley Lady, from whom Hal and the girl bought various food, drinks and sweets. The final interruption was from the boy that Harry had met in Madam Malkin's, who appeared in the doorway with a sneer of recognition.

"So, Harry Potter, the rumours were true. I see you've found your way to the side of some reputable pure bloods."

He made to sit beside Harry, but froze when the girl made a small scoffing noise.

"I don't remember asking you anything, Greengrass. In fact I think it would be better if you just stayed quiet while I talk to Harry."

Harry glanced around the compartment, noting the deep scowl on Hal's face, as well as the look of contempt on the girl's. She swung her feet onto the floor and managed to compress an impressive amount of contempt into the simple movement.

"I don't remember asking you to come in, Draco. In fact, I think it would be best if you just left." The blond haired boy flushed fuchsia and made a great deal of noise getting up, pausing at the door to speak once again to Harry.

"If you want to consort with some _lesser_ families, Potter, I would suggest you stay here. But if you have any ambition, then we may have things to discuss."

He closed the door hard, and sauntered down the corridor, leaving before Hal's gasp of laughter could reach his ears.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

It was not long before the train began to slow, and Harry quickly changed into his robes before following the others out of the train. Harry spotted the redhead from the train station, so bright was his hair, and made a beeline for Hal and the girl, whose name Harry had learned was Daphne, so as to avoid conversation with him. Not to be deterred, the redhead strode up to the trio,

"Wow! So Fred and George were right. C'mon, Harry, I'll show you around. Don't hang out with these vipers, you don't want a reputation on your first day!"

"And yet, he already has a reputation, Weasley. As evidenced by your approaching him and warning him off of us." The boy had found words where they had failed Harry, and had managed it in a more eloquent fashion than Harry though he'd have been able to answer in.

They eventually came to a small harbour with many boats lined up for the crossing of the lake to the castle, and the trio piled into a boat and pushed off before anyone else could try to board it. In near silence, the first years glided across the lake, staring up at the towering fortress in rapture. Here and there, a splash of water would fly up, lit from within by a water fairy, and drop back into the obsidian smoothness of the lake.

It was as the boats crunched up onto the sandy bank on the shore of the lake that Harry realised that he had left his trunk on the train, but when he raised the point with his companions they laughed softly.

"The elves sort the luggage and ensure it arrives in the right room. All of your stuff will get to the right place."

Harry wondered at that fact. No longer would he be expected to do all of the menial tasks around the house, or cook food while being starved himself. Not in the magical world at least.

Harry was shaken out of his reverie by a very tall witch in green velvet, who explained about the house system before leading them into the great hall and having them line up. A tatty hat was placed on a stool, and after singing them a song which incorporated a great deal of the history explained to him by Hal the sorting began.

Harry tried to remember as many of the names and faces as he could, but grew increasingly irrationally nervous as he shuffled forwards in the line. Daphne was sorted into Slytherin to loud applause, and Harry's mind went blank with panic as his name got called.

"Well, well," said a voice in Harry's head "this one is more interesting than most, yes I can see that…. A fine mind, no doubt, and a strong sense of loyalty, yes both Rowena and Helga would be proud to have you. But I can sense greatness inside you Potter. Ambition. Pride. Surely Slytherin is your home? Except you possess precisely the qualities of a good Gryffindor. You will succeed wherever you go, no doubt there. You have an unusual strength to you, but seeing as both of your parents went to Gryffindor I really have to put you there, don't I. If tradition is done away with then I would surely be the first to go. Well, then… GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry opened his eyes to the joyous whoops and cheers of his new housemates. He found Hal's face in the line and noticed his grin towards him before sitting down next to a plump boy with dark hair who Harry remembered had been called Neville.

"Selwyn, Harold!" Called Professor McGonagall, and Harry watched as his friend sat on the creaky stool, and placed the hat on his head, which immediately announced another Slytherin member.

After the sorting had ended, an old man whom Harry recognised only from the back of a chocolate frog card, Dumbledore stood up to talk. He laid down some school rules for the first years which seemed fairly standard to Harry, disappointingly so what with the magical nature of the school, and wished them a restful sleep, ready for their day of lessons then next day.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry's next few days were just as exciting as they should be, starting a new magical school for the first time. His lessons were unlike anything he had ever experienced, and without the influence of his cousin Dudley the teachers were fair to him and he was actually able to form tentative friendships with people in his house. He continued to sit near to Hal and Daphne whenever the opportunity presented itself, such as in his first potions lesson.

Snape's robe billowed as he swept into the classroom, silencing the class with his presence. He immediately took a register, pausing as Harry's name and raising an eyebrow as he spotted how he was sitting.

"Perhaps you ought to have been sorted into Slytherin, Potter, seeing as how you're dangerously close to two of them."

His comment earned a chuckle from the slytherins, and he moved on.

"Now, potion making is more of an exact subject than any that you will face until you choose your options in third year. As such there will be many who fail to keep up in my class." His voice grew lower and softer as he continued, "failure to keep up will be met with… severe consequences."

He flicked his wand at the blackboard, and instructions for a boil-vanishing remedy appeared on it.

"You have the remainder of the lesson to complete this rather simple potion, Ingredients are in the cupboard at the back of the room. Begin."

The class jumped up, all except for Hal and Daphne, who began copying down the instructions from the board. They then edited them slightly, adding a stir here or a heat there. Hal turned to Harry and explained,

"Snape's famous for deliberately including mistakes in his potion instructions, by doing it this way we fix all of the ones we manage to spot."

Harry nodded, it was a sensible idea, before joining them at the back to collect the amended ingredient list.

Harry didn't feel he had done too badly, his potion was not exactly the same turquoise as Hal or Daphne's, but it was closer than the rest of the class' attempts. Goyle's potion was deep red for one. Snape walked from table to table, peering into potions and scribbling on his parchment. Ron's potion earned a special comment and a sneer from the bat-like potions master, but he passed over Harry's potion with a disappointed sniff, which Harry took to mean that he had found nothing wrong with it. Hal and Daphne's potions earned them five points each, and Snape commended them for finding almost all of his deliberate inaccuracies. With that, the bell rang and the students packed their cauldrons away and headed off to lunch.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

The next week saw the first flying lesson, with Slytherin once again being matched up with Gryffindor. Harry was one of the few who managed to get his broom into his hand on the first try, even among some of those who had apparently been flying for years prior to that.

The fun stopped when it emerged that Malfoy had somehow acquired Neville's remembrall, and was flying with Crabbe and Goyle and tossing it between them. Harry flew in between the three of them, followed by Hal, and demanded that they return it.

"Yeah, I'll return it," smirked Draco as he threw it as hard and fast as he could towards the other end of the field.

Harry barely thought before he was flying as fast as he could towards the falling glass ball, and caught it by the tips of his fingers and pulling out of the dive. He looked back to see Hal standing over Draco, who was lying on the ground coughing. A minute passed before McGonagall strode out of the main hall, shouting for Harry to follow her.

The nights grew longer and colder as the year slipped towards halloween, with the usual candles being replaced by floating carved pumpkins and flocks of bats. As the year progressed, Harry settled into life at Hogwarts, completing his homework well before due and even reading ahead and practicing thing she had learned. Away from the classroom, Harry had become fast friends with Neville, as well as being at least on speaking terms with the rest of his house. Despite the unease of most of his house, he continued to remain friends with Hal and Daphne, which seemed to offer him some protection from Slytherins, as the houses of Selwyn and Greengrass were two incredibly old, wealthy and politically powerful houses that the politicking Slytherins such as Draco Malfoy didn't want to get on the bad side of.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

For the first time, Harry was putting on weight, He'd filled out with muscle and grown a good few inches, probably down to the fact that he was being properly fed for the first time in almost his entire life as well as the hard quidditch training that he was having to do, meaning that he was kept tired and busy. Nothing could have stopped Harry from being the happiest he had ever been.

Except for the troll, of course.

As Quirrel had burst into the room and proclaimed the presence of a large mountain troll, panic erupted. The prefects did their best, and soon everyone was leaving the great hall in an almost orderly way. Harry had just reached the main corridor when he felt someone roughly grab him and steer him down a side passage. Hal let go of him, and Harry spotted Daphne just behind him.

"Hermione is in the girl's toilets, she needs to know about the troll, but i think it was going that way and I'd rather not fight it alone," said Daphne.

They took off at a fast pace towards the second floor, and saw the back of an enormous troll going into the bathroom. Seconds later they heard a piercing scream. The trio sprinted into the bathroom to see Hermione curled up on the floor with the troll standing over her, club raised to smash her into the tiles.

" _Wingardium Leviosa!_ " said Harry, levitating the club out of the hands of the troll.

Daphne dashed around the legs of the monster and dragged Hermione away from danger, while Hal shot a jet of flame at the confused beast.

" _Confringo!_ " yelled Hal, causing the belly of the beast to explode outwards, showering the walls in gore. Harry released the charm on the club, causing it to fall from the high ceiling onto the head of the wounded troll, causing a loud crack to be heard as the neck of the monster broke.

The door behind them banged open as the teachers burst into the now ruined bathroom, and stopped abruptly when they caught sight of the blood soaked children.

"What is the meaning of this - carnage?" said Professor Snape in his icy tone reserved for true anger. Hermione had gone into shock by this point and couldn't form a coherent sentence, and so Daphne spoke up,

"I knew that Hermione wasn't at the feast as a result of the Weasley boy mocking her relentlessly. As such, I was aware that she had no idea about the troll. I was going to go to her alone, but I heard the beast approaching and I didn't want to risk fighting a fully grown mountain troll alone. I went and found these two and they helped me kill the troll and save Hermione's life."

"Miss Greengrass, you are - I hope - aware of the fact that in doing this you have broken nearly twenty separate school rules. As such i will be removing ten points from Slytherin. However, it must be said that it is an impressive feat to kill such a beast - even for a fully qualified adult - and so to each of the three of you I will award twenty points," said McGonagall.

"We must get that girl to the hospital wing, unless we want to have Madam Pomfrey after our heads," said Flitwick in his characteristic squeak. "You three are to go straight back to your dormitories, and are not to tell anyone about what has happened here."

Naturally, the entire school knew before lunch the next day.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

"Look, I'm telling you, he's up to something!"

Harry was pacing back and forth while Hal, Daphne and Neville lounged on chairs or desks in an empty classroom.

"Voldemort wants the stone, and whoever is working for him in this castle will go for it, and soon!" Harry continued his rant.

"Harry," began Daphne, "It's been months, why would they go for the stone now, there's no escape plan for if they get caught. Besides, we don't even know who they are, so how could we hope to stop this?"

"Look Harry, how about if I stationed my elf to warn us if whoever it is goes for the stone?" said Hal in a placating tone. Harry walked to a table and slumped down on it with a sigh.

"Want a game of chess?" suggested Hal, and Harry shook his head,

"I always lose to you!"

"You're on," answered Daphne.

Half an hour later, and the game had almost ended, it was a tense position with Hal being up an exchange, but even to the end it remained close.

"Checkmate!" exclaimed Hal, breathing a sigh of relief and picking up the pair of golden galleons that had been set on the side of the board.

"I almost had you though!" moaned Daphne, brushing a finger over her eyelid to energise herself.

"Almost isn't good enough though," said Hal, stretching luxuriously.

"Cocky bastard, I'll get you next time!"

Meanwhile, Harry was grinning to himself over his transfiguration homework, listening to his friends bicker while he finished off his twelve inches of parchment on the process of transfiguring a pencil into a paintbrush. Neville came in and closed the door behind him, dropping his bag near a desk and slumping into a chair. A few moments later he ragged his bag towards him and pulled out his charms work. Daphne went over to help him with the wandwork while Hal packed the chess set away, checking each piece for damage and placing it carefully into the magically enchanted case.

"What're your plans for christmas?" asked Harry tentatively, fully expecting to be alone once again for the festive season.

"I'm staying at hogwarts, Gran's visiting friends so it seemed sensible," said Neville,

"I'll stay here too, I think. I'd like to experience a hogwarts christmas at least once," Hal answered,

"Same here," said Daphne.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Christmas came and went, and still there was no attempt by anyone to take the stone from its hiding place. Hagrid's hut burned down and there was curiously no explained reason why, but Harry supposed that the half giant had tried to cook something and had it go severely wrong.

As spring broke through the ice of winter and faded into the heat of summer, the Gryffindor quidditch team, with the help of Harry, destroyed all opposition.

As exam season approached, the first years spent more and more time in the library, and on one such evening a sharp crack could be heard.

"Quirrel is going after the stone right now, he's already got past the cerberus."

Hal looked up sharply, and whispered to Daphne and Harry as the elf disapparated.

"Lets go after them, you've got the cloak, we need to make this work, or Voldemort will return and then we'll all be screwed."

"Where's Neville?"

"Detention with Snape, come on we don't have time."

They all piled under the invisibility cloak and made their way as quickly as they could to the third floor, where a harp was still playing softly to the enormous cerberus guarding the trapdoor.

They made their way quickly through all of the rooms, ending up with the three of them staring at the flames stopping them from passing through to the next and the tiny vial of liquid that would help them through the enchanted fire.

"I'll go on, you two go back and get help from a teacher, i just hope that i can delay whoever it is long enough that the help arrives," said Harry.

"Are you mad? None of us would last a second against a death eater, let alone Voldemort himself! I'm coming too, maybe with both of us we'd stand a chance of delaying. We have to play defensively, whoever it isn't going to be scared of cursing two kids, _especially_ if it's Voldemort," replied Hal.

"Okay, while you two play the hero, I'll try to find flitwick, Snape, or McGonagall. They're powerful enough in their own right. Please, please be safe."

With that, Daphne drank from the larger of the two vials and ran through the purple-tinged flames. Her footsteps receded quickly, and the boys looked at each other. Harry drank first, taking a tiny sip from the small flask, then jumped through the fire, followed closely by Hal.

Before them stood Quirrel, sans turban, staring at a mirror and muttering to himself. He started as the two boys entered, and the face on the back of his head opened its eyes.

"Well, well, Potter," it said in a bone-chilling voice, "we meet at last. Perhaps you can solve the riddle of this infernal mirror?"

Harry looked into the mirror, and saw only himself, placing a large red stone into his pocket. His eyes widened, and he made to turn and run, but Quirrel was faster. He drew his wand and tripped Harry, before immobilising Hal.

"Give me the stone, boy!" shouted Quirrel, striding towards Harry as he lay on the ground.

Harry scrambled backwards, but Quirrel landed on top of him, hands gripping his throat, but Quirrel suddenly began to scream in pain, skin on his hands slaking off in chunks where it contacted Harry. Nonetheless, Quirrel continued, biting deep on his lower lip to stop the noise, but still his flesh eroded.

He fell back, his hands now nothing more than bare blackened bone, unconscious from the pain, yet still the man's flesh eroded. Harry had lost consciousness from the strangulation, and Hal was helpless in the full body bind curse that he had been put into.

Suddenly, Dumbledore appeared in the doorway, and leant down just as the poor man's heart eroded and Hal was released from the body binding curse. Hal fell forwards, catching himself on his hands and retching as he had been unable to look away from the grotesquery that was Quirrel's corpse. Dumbledore flipped the man over with a his shoe, and nodded grimly as he observed the face on the back of the man's skull, now dissolving. He lifted Hal with surprising ease, and levitated Harry's prone body. The last image Hal saw before he lost consciousness was Dumbledore's hand entering Harry's pocket, and removing the stone.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry sat back in his seat, watching as his friends bantered in the compartment on the hogwarts express. He felt a slow smile spread across his face, and watched as Hal and Daphne argued lightheartedly with Neville and Hermione, who had joined their little group after the news about the events with Quirrel had broken over the school. He felt a twinge of sadness as he realised that he would be cut off from them for a month and a half while he waited at the Dursley's. His grin reasserted itself as Hal turned to him and said;

"I forgot to ask, would you like to come over to my house for the summer, get you away from those muggles?" Harry responded with a simple nod.


	2. Chapter 2

AN:

I've done the order of this chapter a little differently from how it is in the book, chronologically it will not be the same. Additionally, as with the first one, I have left out some events and details purely because i'm compressing an entire novel into about 5000 words. I'm not too good at writing dialogue, nor am i the best at extended description; I end up repeating myself. If the pace feels too fast then leave a review, as these stories are all about practicing my writing style and improving.

/AN

Neville beamed as they walked back to the floo connection in diagon alley. His new wand had worked masterfully with each and every spell he had tried to cast. The foot long stick of cherry with unicorn hair had only been the second one that Ollivander had passed him, but there could be no doubt that the wand had chosen him. Throwing the powder into the fireplace, and shouting 'Selwyn manor' had brought Harry, Neville, and Hal to the latter's ancestral home, and a house elf called plinky had taken their coats as they vanished the dust from their clothes. Laughing at Harry's joke, they made themselves more comfortable after the disconcerting journey through the floo network. "What next then? Do you guys want to get some lunch or should we do something else before that?" asked Hal. Before any of the other boys could respond, however, a weak sounding voice sounded from deeper into the house.

"Harold! Come here this instant!"

Hal sighed as he walked further into the house, passing depressingly lit hallways and richly paneled rooms that nonetheless exuded a miserable aura.

"Coming, mother." he called out as he walked further in.

A heavy mahogany door creaked open as he made his approach, leading into a room well lit with sunlight and yet somehow seemed dingy and sickly. Much of the room was lavished in creamy lace and heavy wooden panels which did nothing to make the room seem less oppressive. A sickly looking woman sat in an armchair beside the window, an unusual wand resting on the arm of her chair. Unerringly straight, with lavish ornamentation including a filigreed design on the unusually dark wood. Around the grip area was inlaid smooth ivory with a greenish tinge, and the wand seemed to glow gently even as it sat in place.

"Who is this scum you've brought into my house? Half-bloods and filth from that school, I'd imagine." Cassandra Selwyn did not even turn to face her son, speaking in a hoarse voice that cut through the gloom. "Answer me, boy. What would your father say if he could see you now?"

"These people are not scum, mother. One is the heir apparent of the ancient and noble house of Potter, and the other is the heir of the ancient and noble house of Longbottom." Hal responded carefully, as though afraid of angering a vicious animal.

"Get them to leave; they have no place in my home."

"They are here on my request, they're staying."

"Enough of this! _Imperio!"_

Hal flicked his wand as the spell lazily curled its way towards him, causing it to burn a hole in a nearby curtain.

"No, mother."

"Cruci-"

"I said NO!" Hal flicked his wand again, and his mother's wand scattered across the wooden floor. Hal turned and strode out of the room, ignoring the sobs emanating from within, as he knew his mother too well to believe that they were real.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

"Harry Potter must not go back to hogwarts!" Insisted a shabby looking house elf in a filthy pillow case. Currently in the guest suite inside the manor, Harry was speechless at the appearance of the elf. Caught off guard by the sudden opening of the heavy oak door, he didn't notice that elf had began to run away. Fortunately, Hal wasn't as slow to act, and the elf found himself dragged backwards by his ankles, coming to rest at Hal's feet.

"Pinky!" Called Hal, and with a crack the smaller but far cleaner elf appeared at Hal's elbow, "who does this elf work for, why is he here?"

The small elf frowned in concentration, before answering with a squeak;

"Dobby is an elf that serves the Malfoys, but I's not able to tell why he's here, master. Do you want me to tend the fire without tongs?"

"No, Pinky, you've done a great job. Is there any way to make him tell us why he's here?"

Pinky nodded, and with a savage smirk clicked her fingers, causing a spurt of pink light to wind its way across the free space between her and Dobby.

"Thanks, Pinky, can you please stay while we question him? Block him from apparating away," Hal spoke in an even tone, squatting down so that his face was closer to the elf's, before saying "why are you here?"

With tears pouring down his face, Dobby choked out that he was there because his masters were bad wizards and had planned some terrible event at hogwarts, and that Dobby had come to warn the great wizard Harry Potter of it. By the end, Dobby was attempting to bash his head against the carpeted flooring. Hal was watching with a far away look in his eyes.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Dobby, you may go. Do not punish yourself for this," the house elf disappeared with another loud crack. Hal turned to Pinky, and said "I want you to go to Malfoy manor, and to see what they are plotting. Do not get seen. If you are seen, then you come back here straight away." Nodding her understanding, Pinky vanished with yet another crack.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

A sense of unease washed over Harry as they walked towards the separation between the muggle and wizarding worlds, but the red brick wall yielded to them as they slid through onto platform nine and three quarters. The scarlet steam engine stood hissing as usual, and he hurried towards his friends as the clock read 10:45. They boarded the train, heading quickly for the rear end where the compartments were more spacious and the upholstery less tattered. Sitting down between Neville and Hermione, Harry pulled out his birthday present from Hal, excitedly showing it to Hermione, who gaped at the incredibly rare enchanted book which held the entire history of transfiguration, and also updated itself whenever new discoveries were made. Hal grinned to himself as he watched them, pleased that they could both pore over such a book. Neville leaned forwards, pink faced with excitement, and engaged Hal in discussion about the rare seeds he'd gotten him for his own birthday, two days prior to Harry's.

In fact, Neville's grandmother had been very useful to Hal, telling him exactly what Neville had been wanting. After that it had been a simple case of mobilising the Selwyn fortune to acquire the seeds from which sprouted a rare and very sought after potion ingredient, with just the right markings and abilities to make it an object of fascination for Neville.

As the train journey wore on, conversation turned to theoretical magic, with Hal, Hermione, and Daphne all taking part avidly.

"I frankly don't see the difference. If you want to cut something then the intent has to be the same, regardless of whether you use 'diffindo' or 'incisura' you have to want to harm the thing you're cutting. Now that could be parchment or it could be a person. It's the intent that makes a spell wrong, not the word you use." Hal lounged on the bench, waving a hand idly to punctuate his point.

"True, but some spells necessitate such an intent. Take the killing curse, for example, you have to mean it in order to do it, you have to want the thing to die, and you have to hate it in order for the spell to even work at all. 'Stupefy' for example doesn't require such a vicious intent, just a desire to protect or even to help the other person works for a stunner." Hermione was leaned forwards, cheeks pink as she tried to make her stance clear, and breathing heavily as though she had been running.

"You're missing the point, though. You can easily kill with a simple 'diffindo' if it's aimed right or if the intent is strong enough. I think a better point to make is that some spells simply have more power. People have used the killing curse as a tool of mercy, killing the unsaveable or aiding those who wish to die but cannot, so I don't see that it _requires_ malicious intent to make it work, I just think that it is so often used to harm that people make the mistake of thinking it requires it." Daphne was curled up with her socked feet on the bench beside her, her head was resting on Hal's shoulder.

Harry coughed loudly, and then jutted his chin towards Neville who was staring out of the window, watching the rain on the glass.

"Maybe save this discussion for later," he said.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Fuming, Harry slammed down his bag as he entered his bedroom having just finished a detention with Lockhart. Not only had it been primarily an opportunity for Gilderoy to stroke his own ego, but it had also been a frustrating experience with the golden haired narcissist attempting to indoctrinate Harry into his fan club. Harry angrily pulled off his shoes and socks. It wasn't like harry was unused to being indoctrinated, of course. Dumbledore had tried to do so at the start and end of his previous year, so it didn't seem overly different to Harry. What was different was that whereas Dumbledore talked from a point of deliberate humility, knowing that he was smarter and more powerful than you, Gilderoy Lockhart had an infuriating way of asserting that he was better, without even a shred of evidence to back up the claim.

The worst part was that he had apparently conned all of the teachers and a large proportion of the female students that he knew exactly what he was doing, which made no sense to Harry, as he pulled off his shirt. One thing that Harry hated more than all of the attention he received was the type of person who revels in such attention and undeserved recognition. Not that Harry didn't value the defeat of the darkest wizard of all time, but he couldn't even remember doing it. If anything, it was his mother who should receive the credit; having devised the blood wards to keep him safe even from the most powerfully destructive magic. Dumbledore didn't know this of course. To him, it was all about the love that Lily had for her son that protected him. Harry knew better, having requested the Gringotts goblins to research the matter. His mother had been a preeminent warder, and had a very good job offer from Gringotts before she had to go into hiding to protect her life. The goblins had managed to salvage her notebook, which detailed several 'potentially groundbreaking' breakthroughs in the field of warding, as well as the details of the ward used to save Harry.

" _ **Crush, kill them. Rip and tear them. So hungry, kill…**_ "

Harry shot up in bed, darkness having totally fallen in the intervening time. He scrambled for his glasses and grabbed his wand from the bedside table, but all that could be heard was heavy silence and the sound of quietly sleeping boys. Laying back down, heart thundering in his chest, he knew that he wouldn't be able to return to the land of sleep that night.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry was not the only sleepless face in the morning, Hal too had been incapable of sleep, as well as most of the fifth and seventh years, but that was fairly standard for them. All in all, breakfast was a fairly subdued affair, but it was on the way to their transfiguration lesson with McGonagall that they saw the writing, in blood, on the wall.

 **The chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of The Heir, beware.**

The five of them froze, clearly they were the first to discover the writing, as there was no crowd and no teacher as there certainly would be if they were not the first.

"The chamber of secrets," said Hermione musingly, "I thought that was just a mere myth."

"It's not some myth, it was opened before," started Daphne, "I heard a muggle born girl died last time it was opened, but nobody ever told me what - or who- killed her. Supposedly the chamber is home to a great monster of Slytherin, but I don't know how true that is."

"We shouldn't stay here, when people inevitably discover this we don't want to be the first ones found. Half of the school would probably attack us if they found us here, especially as me and Daphne are Slytherins." Hal spoke quickly and with an urgent tone, and they hurried down the corridor towards their lesson.

"You five are early, come on, we'll be continuing the same practical task as last lesson, so take a few minutes to remind yourself of the theory and then collect your rocks. Mr Selwyn, Miss Granger, and Miss Greengrass, you have already managed to turn the rocks into acceptable pillows, and so I want you to practice turning the pillow back into a rock, as well as working on the comfortability of the pillows, and any design that you want them to have. You have until the end of the period to complete this work." As she reached the end of her sentence, there arose a clamouring outside, and she went to check on the noise. When she did not return immediately, the five children shared a dark look and continued to work on their practical.

It took McGonagall half of the lesson to return, and when she did she looked slightly flustered. The rest of the class had dribbled in, and most of them stood around talking about the events, while a handful of the more diligent students practiced the work.

"I reckon it's Malfoy!" shouted Ron, whose face was as red as his hair, "can't trust any of those snakes."

"Way I see it, anyone sorted into slytherin should be locked up. That house is nothin' but trouble!" Seamus joined Ron in his loud proclamation of the general guilt of all things Slytherin. It was fortunate that McGonagall returned at that precise moment, as it had looked to dissolve into a shouting match between the louder Slytherins, and the more vocal Gryffindors.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, and ten also from Slytherin," she said, her voice cutting through the clamour with practiced ease, "while you want to defend your house's honour, Mr Malfoy, resorting to slurs against the aggressors is not the way to go about it, an additional five points from Slytherin." She made her way over to the two tables near the back where the five friends were sitting, all of whom had managed to turn the stones into pillows and back again. Hermione's pillow had sequins sewn into the surface, whereas Daphne's was made of rich green velvet. Hal's pillow sported an embroided pattern of an owl. Ten points were awarded to each of them.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

The next two weeks saw the highest level of tension that Harry had experienced at Hogwarts, with two muggle-born fifth year students being found petrified in the girl's toilets, leading to some awkward questions because of the fact that one of them was male, and that they had been found in a compromising position. Only the deft wand-work of Madam Pomfrey managed to preserve their dignity, as she conjured clothes onto their bodies so that they could be visited by their parents.

"It's called the room of requirement, sometimes the come and go room. It appears when you have a need, and at the moment, we need a place to talk." Hal spoke in a whisper during a potions lesson, knowing that the sound of twenty boiling cauldrons would be enough to cover their conversation.

"Meet me on the seventh floor opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the barmy, just after dinner. We need to talk." Harry nodded, and passed along the message to Neville and Hermione.

The rest of the day passed with no additional out-of-the-ordinary events occurring, and the five of them found themselves outside an engraved door which gave way into a cozy room with comfy chairs surrounding a crackling fire of the perfect temperature. The door closed silently as Neville walked in, and they sat in a small circle in agreeable quiet for a short while before Hal spoke.

"Look, there's something that I need to say, and I'm not sure that you're going to like what it is," Hal spoke quickly, as though afraid that he would lose the power of speech if he didn't talk quickly enough, "I asked the goblin in charge of all Selwyn assets to do some research into the heir of Slytherin, their identity. They found that the line diverged quite soon after the death of Salazar Slytherin, and due to the fact that he only had daughters it made it a lot harder to follow the line. However, he believes that he has managed to follow the line all the way down, and found that Andromeda Slytherin married into the Peverell family, which then split again into three main branches. Only one of these branches survived, and it once again split. The family names of those branch splittings are Gaunt and Selwyn." As he finished talking, he looked down at his feet. Hermione was staring at him with a mixture of fear and sudden distrust.

"What are you saying?" she asked in a frigid tone.

"In every sense of the word, I am the current heir of Slytherin. In fact, the account manager who discovered this attempted to merge the accounts of Slytherin and Selwyn, and he succeeded." Hermione stood up, and strode towards the door, before turning back and firing one last barb at Hal.

"So this is all your fault. See you around, snake." She slammed the door shut behind her.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Months passed, and the attacks continued. Hermione stayed distant from the group, and with her went much of the joviality of the four remaining people. Hal couldn't find it in himself to blame her, given what he knew of her parentage, but what he couldn't stand was the outright rejection of him by seemingly the entire student body. He hadn't thought that Hermione would have been one to gossip, but it appeared that everyone knew his secret, and abused him for it. They even turned their attentions onto Harry and Neville when it became clear that they were friends, so much so that they were unable to find much time to socialise. Even quidditch provided no release for Hal, who had become the seeker on the Slytherin team, just as Harry was on Gryffindor.

The crowd roared as Harry and his team streamed out onto the quidditch pitch for the last game of the season, against Slytherin, both of whom had beaten each of the other houses and were therefore tied for the cup standings. Harry shook off the last of the pre-match nerves and looked around the stadium at the two colours being represented. Red was the dominant colour on one side, whereas green was arrayed over the other end of the pitch. As a mark of how strained inter-house relations had become, the red seemed to take up at least three-quarters of the stadium.

Just as Madam Hooch was about to start the game, professor McGonagall strode onto the pitch, and with a magically enhanced voice announced that the game was cancelled. She walked over to the circle where the teams stood, and spoke now in a much quieter and more subdued voice.

"I think you two had better come with me."

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Sunlight filtered through the dusty air in the hospital wing as Hal and Harry sat, looking at three beds upon which lay the stiff bodies of Hermione, Daphne, and Neville. It was almost a week after they had first been found. Silence spread across the room like a mouldering blanket and stayed there, suffocating the two boys within. Clutched in Neville's right hand was his wand, and in his left was Hermione's hand, awkwardly angled to suggest him leading her quickly down a narrow hallway. In Daphne's hand was a mirror, her wand lay on the bedside table, as her left hand was loosely curled into a fist. Hal's warm hand found her cold one, and felt the rough crackling of dry paper.

"A basilisk." His voice was cold and clipped, and he cleared his throat before continuing.

"The creature that has been attacking these people is a basilisk. Nobody saw it clearly I guess. Daph had a mirror, Justin saw it through that ghost, and the young boy saw it through a camera." Harry frowned before answering.

"How's it been getting around then, if its a thirty foot long snake then someone would have spotted it. How have we been hearing it too, if it's a snake?"

"Daph figured that one out too, it's been using the pipes, as for why we heard it, we're parselmouths, other people would have just heard some hissing or spitting, not unusual sounds for plumbing to make."

Suddenly, a voice blared out around them as though it came from the very walls of the castle.

"All students will return to their dormitories at once, no student is to leave until morning. All staff members will go to the first floor corridor immediately."

Harry stood and pulled out his invisibility cloak, throwing it over both boys as they made their way out of the hospital wing and hurried towards the first floor corridor.

All of the teachers were gathered around, talking dejectedly amongst themselves. Above them, and again written in blood was the words:

 **Her bones will lie in the chamber forever.**

Harry turned to face his companion.

"We have to go down, we have to save her." It wasn't a question, and Hal merely nodded.

"How the hell are we going to kill a basilisk? Their hides are easily as magic resistant as a dragon's."

"I don't know, but we have to try. If we can blind it then we can see what we're doing, and then maybe a good blasting curse in the mouth might work."

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry banged on the door to Lockhart's room, once again waiting for him to open it. When the door remained closed, he stepped back, raised his wand, and blew the door off of its hinges. A jet of red light flew from within, but harry stepped around it and Hal disarmed the cowering defence teacher.

"Are you _running away_?" Harry accused, angry enough to spit fire.

"I - I had a very important call!" Lockhart tripped over his words, as he scrambled backwards to avoid the two boys.

" _Petrificus Totalus!"_ said Hal, before levitating the body out of the room and towards the girl's bathroom where Myrtle had died.

" _ **Open up,**_ " said Harry, and the sinks slid down into the floor to reveal a huge pipe descending deep into the earth.

"Go on, you first."

"B-boys really there's no-" but that was all Lockhart got out before being shoved roughly down into the pipe. His scream echoed about the bathroom until a crunch and a groan could be heard from the pipe. Hal jumped in, closely followed by Harry, who slowed their descent so that they stopped moving just as they reached the bottom of the pipe.

Hal got to his feet, pointing his wand at Lockhart who had found a huge rock and attempted to smash Hal's head with it.

" _Expulso!"_ cried Hal, and Lockhart's hands vanished into a fine red powder. The man fainted, dropping the rock on his chest.

"Harry! Help me stop the bleeding or he'll die!" he shouted. Harry ran over, and produced a gout of flame with his wand, burning the stumps so that the blood stopped flowing from them before levitating the body out of the pipe so that the wounds didn't become infected.

The two boys walked carefully onwards, ensuring that they were aware of their surroundings, before coming to a huge metal door.

" _ **Open!**_ " said Hal, and with unnerving silence, the huge heavy door slowly swung open, revealing an enormous underground chamber with heavy serpentine imagery. A causeway, flanked on each side by water and statues of large snake heads, led to a huge circular platform backing onto a bust of an old and wise looking man carved into the rear wall of the chamber, so large that his head stretched from ten feet off of the floor up to the ceiling, nearly ninety feet above the pair of boys. A girl lay on the cold and damp floor, long, red hair splayed out on the smooth granite, with ice-pale skin not unlike a corpse's. In her hands she clutched a leather-bound book, and her wand was conspicuously missing. When Harry touched her hand, she felt cold and strangely incorporeal, as though she almost didn't exist, solid and yet also nearly not there.

"She won't wake," said a tall and handsome boy that had not been there mere moments ago. "In fact, in a few more minutes, she won't even exist at all. After all, she is holding my diary." The boy spoke with an air of superiority, as though he considered himself better than all around him.

"What's happening?" asked Harry, confused.

"For the past few months, now, little Ginny here has been doing my bidding. She freed my basilisk, even led the boy who somehow defeated the most powerful wizard of all time as a petty child to his death. Her sacrifice will be remembered," the boy laughed a high, cold laugh, "In fact, if not for her then my return would possibly never happen, she has been so _very_ useful, and I have enjoyed our time together. That is, once she got past the fear and self pity and gave herself fully to me. _Such_ a pity that the great Harry Potter could have been led to his death by such a simple little girl, who gave Lord Voldemort everything he needed." The boy -Voldemort- licked his lips as he spoke, and Hal's scowl deepened while Harry grimaced.

"Now, let's pit the power of Lord Voldemort and his basilisk against two… boys." Voldemort smiled as a crocodile smiles at its next meal.

" _ **Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four!**_ "

The great stone mouth opened slowly, and a hiss like a the rush of air from a cracked pipe could be heard from within, wherever within was. Both boys immediately stared at the ground, and Harry raised his wand to where he remembered the mouth being, following his ears as best as he could.

" _Conjunctus!_ "

Harry had never thought it possible for a snake to roar, but that is what happened. The heavy body of the basilisk fell to the ground, narrowly avoiding crushing Ginny, and the snake started forwards. Harry risked a look, and saw that the eyes of the basilisk were swollen shut, which he communicated to Hal.

Two exploding curses impacted the body of the near sixty foot long snake, and ricocheted off , causing Tom Riddle to dodge furiously out of the way. Harry took the opportunity to disarm the dark lord, catching the wand deftly and turning again to face the basilisk. Hal stood a short distance away from the gargantuan snake, wand prepared. As soon as the snake opened its mouth, he shot a blasting curse into it, and dodged. Once again the snake roared, but it wheeled around to face Hal again. It opened its mouth and lunged at the boy.

" _Confringo!"_ he shouted, and blood exploded from the back of the snake's head, eating into the granite slightly wherever it touched it. The snake toppled down, coming to the floor with an impact that shook the ground.

"NO!" shouted Riddle, but it was far too late to save the snake. One of the fangs of the basilisk, knocked free by the impact, came to rest at Harry's foot, and he picked it up, hefting it like a dagger with one hand as he tugged the diary free from Ginny's almost entirely incorporeal form. He plunged the fang into the book, and Riddle screamed. The unearthly sound grew as his body faded away into nothingness.

A minute passed, then two. Ginny sat up with a gasp,

"I am so dead."

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

The two boys stood, bloody ,encrusted with slime and mud, and exhausted, in Dumbledore's office. A steady dripping of filth onto the carpeted floor could be heard in the otherwise silent room as Dumbledore stared them down.

"You broke over fifty school rules, disobeyed direct commands, put yourselves and others in danger, grievously wounded a teacher, and damaged untold value of school property. By all rights you two should be expelled." He let the sentence hang in the tense silence, "However, seeing as how you prevented the most powerfully dark wizard ever known from returning, and as you saved the life of a student here in the school, as well as destroying a powerful dark magic artifact, you will naturally both receive awards for special services to the school." Harry broke into a grin at that, but Hal's face darkened further, having felt the feather light touches of Dumbledore in his mind, subtle enough that he would never usually have noticed.

Dumbledore continued with the air of a grandfather treating his favoured offspring's offspring. "I believe Madam Pomfrey was brewing the mandrake draught this morning, your friends should be revived and well by now. Go, clean up and greet them."

They hurried out of the room, a great weight having been lifted from their chests.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Hal was seated on the exposed roots of an ancient oak tree in the dusk light, arms wrapped around Daphne. The golden beams of light shone off of the two children's faces, highlighting the tears present on each of the normally stoic Slytherin's faces. A similar greeting had occurred between Harry and Hermione, and Neville had almost been crushed by a simultaneous hug from both boys. Upon seeing Hal, though, Hermione merely sniffed and turned away, seemingly she still held him somewhat accountable for the events, despite the explanations that had been offered to her.

" _Never_ do that to me again, you hear? Never scare me like that," Hal choked out as the sun settled in below the horizon. He didn't have to see Daphne's face to know her response; he could feel her head nod in assent.


	3. Chapter 3

AN

This was sort of me trying to prove that I can write a little slower, mostly to myself. Hence the 2220 or so words before even the Hogwarts express, but who's counting? I don't enjoy writing this slowly all the time, but it can make a nice change of pace sometimes. Expect to see little hints of this style in later chapters.

/AN

"Of course, if there's something wrong with the bitch, there'll be something wrong with the pup, that's just natural." Aunt Marge was sitting in the clinically clean kitchen of the Dursleys' home, downing glass after glass of strong wine and devouring an impressive amount of food in a worryingly short time. Even Dudley had a look of mild disgust on his face as he watched her eat, before putting her plate down on the ground for her dog to eat off of. Harry sighed, knowing that Marge was only trying to get a raise out of him, but it was nothing he wanted to do more than to teach her a lesson in manners.

"Now, it isn't all the mother's fault," Marge stopped here to belch, "Of course, some blame must lie on the father's shoulders. No doubt he was a weak willed man, I'm surprised he stuck around when he found her pregnant. Likely he was _involved_ with other people, you know how these things work. Such a man would never stick around once his object of pleasure stopped being available to him unless he was also getting his fill from elsewhere. A drunk too, no doubt! If it were up to me, that scum would never have even had a funera-"

But she was interrupted by the glass in her hand shattering, lacerating her fingers as the razor sharp shards of glass fell to the floor. Immediately, she began to swell, as though her skin was a balloon being blown up. The larger she became, the faster her size began increased, and as she grew her skin began to swell and split due to the tension it was under. Harry turned tail and ran, sprinting upstairs and grabbing his trunk, broom, and wand before running down the stairs. Shouts from the kitchen told him he had very little time to escape, and so he wrenched open the door and hurried away from the house.

Minutes later, he stopped and put down his trunk, opened it and scrabbled inside. Drawing out a small mirror, he lifted it to his face and whispered a name into it. Hal's face appeared within moments, a look of concern written over his features.

"Whats up? Do you need me to come and get you?"

Harry nodded once, and after thirty seconds, a soft crack could be heard. Harry saw his friend let go of the hand of a house elf, run towards him, and seize him in a hug.

"Come, once we're at mine we can talk openly."

And with that, Hal took one of the hands of the house elf, and pulled him into the narrow rubber tube of apparation.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry blinked as the tightness around him disappeared, replaced by the inrushing air. He gasped cold lungfuls of air, noting the difference in temperature. He looked around, seeing a wide cobbled pathway leading up to an imposing manor house which sat raised upon limestone steps. Harry saw his friend looking at him, wind whipping at his robes and hair, grey eyes appearing to search his soul, but nothing was said. Harry followed his friend as he turned and made his way up the path towards the imposing house. The front door creaked as it opened to admit them, and Harry saw the enormous entrance hall, with polished wood and dark metal doing its best to intimidate Harry. Once inside, Hal led him through a maze of serpentine corridors to a rich and comfortable lounge. Harry saw cups on the tables, a couple of which were steaming gently, the liquid inside them still piping hot, as well as a chess board with pieces placed tactically, evidence of a brilliancy interrupted. Hal removed the outer layers of his clothing, throwing his cloak over a nearby chair and carefully removing his shoes. Harry followed suit, and sat on a sofa facing his friend. The twin of Harry's mirror was seated on the mantelpiece over the unlit hearth, and Harry sat silent for a moment, allowing his heartrate to slow back to a normal cadence.

The door creaked open behind Harry, before closing with a soft snap, and he turned to see Daphne entering the room. The total lack of surprise reflected in her smile proved to Harry that she had been the one engaged in the game of chess that he had interrupted, and he wondered whose brilliant attack he had ruined. Harry thought back to the girl he had first seen two years ago, and reconciled her to the teenager he saw now. Gone was any hint of nervousness or fear, and gone was the ability to easily read her, although - Harry thought to himself - two years of Slytherin maneuvering would do that to a person. Instead, was a tall, elegant teenager who exuded confidence and intelligence, a trait backed up by the end of year test scores in which she had battled for top in the year in nearly every subject, beaten only by Hermione Granger. Harry himself had done better than he could have expected, taking a top-five finish in nearly all of his subjects, no doubt due to the long study sessions that Hermione seemed so fond of.

Of course, Harry had changed too. He was no longer the boy who hid under the stairs from his cousin, nor was he the boy that took a beating from his uncle for an outburst of accidental magic. Harry was no more and no less confident in himself and his own abilities than he had a right to be, having slain a troll, defeated a dark lord, and killed a basilisk with only the help that people his own age could offer. He barely resembled the painfully thin boy from Privet Drive, as he had put on enough muscle to even discourage Dudley from using him as a personal punching bag.

"You blew up your aunt," said Hal, and it wasn't a question. Harry merely nodded.

"You need a place to stay that isn't the house of someone who may try to kill you," and once again, Harry nodded.

"Well, you're welcome to stay here with me," said Hal, "although I'd understand it if you preferred to stay at the leaky cauldron."

"I'd love to stay here, thanks," said Harry, shifting on his seat.

"I'll show you to your room later, if that's alright."

Daphne settled on the sofa next to Hal, bringing her legs up and off the floor to rest on the cushions.

"I assume you haven't heard the news about the breakout," she said in a low voice, "Sirius Black, jailed for the apparent murder of twelve muggles and Peter Pettigrew, has escaped from Azkaban, which nobody has ever done before. From what I hear, it's likely that he will come after you, to try and kill you. It would be next to impossible for him to get to you here or at my house; the protections on either location are second to none, but you must be careful, especially when we return to school or go into Diagon Alley." Harry opened his mouth to interject, but Daphne held up a hand and continued to speak, "additionally, I believe that it's likely that our maniac of a minister for magic would station dementors in and around Hogsmeade and Hogwarts ostensibly for our protection, but likely because he fears the political repercussions if he is seen to be doing nothing." Daphne took the opportunity to drink from her cup, and Hal took up her train of thought,

"Therefore it would be sensible to learn to protect ourselves from those foul beasts." He wrinkled his nose, "I could teach you to cast a patronus charm, I mean, we have a few weeks before we return to school and so you'd likely be able to gain some proficiency in the spell. Tomorrow, I will start trying to teach it, but I only learned it myself last month, so it may be hard to actually get to a full version of the charm working, but any defence of your soul is better than none at all."

Daphne set down her cup, interlacing her fingers and resting her hands on her knee,

"Also, we need to teach you occlumency, Harry. You have far to many secrets to be running around with an unprotected mind, especially if you're friends with us two. Nothing is more likely to paint a target on your back than you being the boy who lived, symbol of the light, being friends with two grey-at-best families, despite the fact that both of our families were staunchly netral in the last war."

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. Seemed he'd have no real rest this holiday, but he was fine with that now that he was back with his friends.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

"I want you to focus on a thought, or a memory, or a fantasy. It doesn't matter what it is that you focus on, but it had to fill you with happiness, and warmth, and love. Focus on the emotions that it brings you, and then say the incantation ' _Expecto Patronum._ '" Hal sat on the cool green grass under the shade of a willow tree beside a stream, talking slowly to Harry and Daphne as they grappled with the idea of using a memory as fuel for a spell.

" _Expecto patronum!_ "

From Harry's wand came some small amount of grey mist, but no substantial object, but Daphne remained incapable of producing any whatsoever. They repeated the incantation, eyes remaining closed as they attempted to focus on their happy memory. After a few minutes of that, Hal stopped them.

"I don't know what memories you were using, or fantasies, but they were not doing the correct job. Instead of focusing on the memory itself, you need to focus more on the emotions that the memory coaxes forth. The memory itself isn't important."

He then separated Harry and Daphne, allowing them to practice individually. Harry, after the additional instruction that Hal had given, was producing more and more grey smoke with each attempt, and his motions became less and less strained as time went on. Daphne on the other hand had produced a wisp of silver vapour, and seemed to grow only more frustrated by her inability to progress as Harry was.

"Stop, Daph," Hal said softly, seeing her arm begin to shake from the continued strain she was putting on her magic, "are you alright?" Daphne lowered her wand, staring at the floor and chewing gently on her lower lip in frustration.

"I don't know why, but I just can't do it. I'm using the happiest memory that I've got, if that's not good enough then…" She stepped closer to him, bowing her head to hide her face, embarrassed. Behind them, Harry was still producing silvery smoke, but with each attempt the vapour became more solid and substantial. Hal wrapped Daphne in an embrace, whispering softly into her ear,

"You don't have to use a memory, you could try using a dream, or a fantasy. Remember that the only point of the idea that you bring forth is to make you feel safe, and loved, and happy. That's what produces the patronus, nothing else. You can't force one out, neither can it be produced only from happiness, else Voldemort would be able to make one after every murder. Try again, really focus on the idea of secure happiness more than anything else, treat it like an occlumency exercise." He let her go and stepped back, watching her. Almost immediately, her breathing slowed and a small smile appeared on her face. She absently pushed her long blonde hair back behind an ear, before raising her wand.

" _Expecto Patronum!_ "

Silver fog exploded out of the tip of her wand, dense and thick, forming into the rough shape of a shield. Daphne kept the fog up for twenty seconds before releasing the spell, before shouting for joy with a grin on her face. Hal laughed kindly with her, and she incanted again,

" _Expecto Patronum!_ "

This time, the fog was accompanied by the blurred outline of a dove, which flew in a circle around Daphne to land on her outstretched wand arm. As she kept the spell up, the outline became more focused, and the shape became more and more opaque. This time, she threw herself at Hal and hugged him while laughing, having produced a full corporeal patronus after just over an hour of practice.

Hal looked over to where Harry was standing, before going over to the boy. Harry was producing an incredible amount of the dense white fog, but it refused to take any more specific form than a silver blur. Harry opened his eyes to see Hal smiling at him, and after a quick grin closed them and attempted the spell again, fully relaxing into it this time. This time, a huge animal burst from the tip of Harry's wand, cantered around the clearing that they were practicing in, and stopped in front of the trio. Harry saw that it took the form of a horse, with a single curled horn protruding from the top of its head. Harry's patronus was a unicorn.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry couldn't hold back his grin at seeing Neville and Hermione when he saw them on the train. Harry, Hal, and Daphne had gone ahead and taken their usual cabin right at the back of the train, and the other pair of their friends had eventually found them. Neville looked far more tanned than he had when they had last seen him, and he excitedly began speaking to them about how his uncle Algie had taken him to Brazil to study the wild and varied plants found in the rainforest. Hermione, too, seemed excited to tell everyone about her holiday, having been to Germany to see all of the castles where the famed Nicholas Flamel first developed his Philosopher's stone.

The conversation turned to light-hearted banter about each person in the compartment, interrupted by the lady with the food trolley (an additional advantage to being at the back of the train was that they could get food from the trolley at any point, as it was stowed just behind them.)

Suddenly, the train ground to a halt, and the lights went off all down the train. The teenagers' breath began to fog in the air as the ambient temperature plummeted, and all of the sound from outside the compartment seemed to deaden. Daphne took her feet off of Hal's lap, slipping them into her shoes as she stood and readied herself. Light flared from Neville's wand tip, casting harsh shadows across the compartment and its occupants. Harry saw wands emerging from sleeves or pockets; everyone was prepared to defend themselves from _whatever_ was out there. They smelt it first, a cloying, rotten stench that seemed to seep from the very air itself, then they heard it. A stuttering, rasping steady intake of breath, that sucked at the air without ever seeming to breath out. Finally they saw it. Tattered black wisps of cloak that floated impossibly in the air, as though held aloft by magic, with a glistening rotten hand protruding from the sleeve of the cloak. The creature's head touched the ceiling as it glided inexorably towards them. The hand gripped the handle on the door, and pulled, causing a squeal of metal. Even that sound was muted though, as the door opened inch by inch. It seemed as though the creature knew what it was doing, as though it deliberately created maximum fear, almost as if it fed off of that fear itself.

" _Expecto Patronum._ "

Hal's voice cut through the sludge that they called air, and from his wand burst a silver cat, larger than any house cat, with wide flat paws for silent traversal on snow; a lynx. At the presence of the predator, the dementor halted, and as the cat casually advanced, the dementor was forced back. Hal channelled the spell, forcing the monster out into the corridor, then advanced until it had been forced off of the train. Further up the corridor, he saw another patronus, brighter than his own, forcing three dementors away from it. A silver dove and a unicorn foal joined the lynx, and together they forced the remaining dementors off of the train.

It was a miracle nobody lost their soul.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

The attitude in the great hall the next morning was near mutinous, as two Hufflepuff first years had fainted, and one Ravenclaw third year who had tried to protect them had nearly been kissed. Only the timely arrival of five patronus charms (from Hal, Harry, Daphne, Professor Lupin, and a Ravenclaw 7th year student,) had saved her from a fate far worse than death. Even the teachers seemed to be annoyed, and McGonagall appeared to be doing an impression of snape as she handed out timetables with a venom that forbade question. Harry looked down at his timetable, comparing it to Hermione's and Neville's. Fortunately they seemed to share almost all of the same subjects, with Hermione taking ancient runes in addition to all of the ones that Harry took. Neville had an identical timetable to Harry, and was pleased to point out that they shared all of their subjects with the Slytherins. Harry didn't know about the power dynamic in the den of snakes, but the general attitude of all of the Slytherins had improved over the last few years to the point where it was only Malfoy who really heaped abuse on them. Harry supposed that Hal and Daphne had used their considerable influence as heirs of ancient and noble houses to coerce the Slytherins into being at least more subtle in their dislike of Harry and the Gryffindors in general.

The first lesson for Harry was the first taste he got of arithmancy, the numerical and mathematical study of magic. In the subject - at least according to Professor Vector - they would learn to create spells and use the magic of mathematics to manipulate or identify existing spells. The third years then got a detailed overview of _how_ the subject could be used. No true insight was offered into why it worked, but by the end of the period they had gone through the creation of the levitation charm, and identified a simple 'lumos' from its equation. Harry's head hurt, but he found the lesson fascinating, having always wondered how people made spells up in the first place. Hermione, for once, couldn't stop talking about something, but in this case she had been joined by Daphne in her gushing about the brilliance of a subject.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry had woken late that saturday, dreading the first Hogsmeade weekend that on which he would be unable to go. He rose, dressed and stretched, before going down to the great hall to break his fast. Harry sat down and, finding a discarded newspaper on his chair, began to read. Two full months had passed since the beginning of term, meaning that both Hal and Daphne had celebrated their birthdays, as well as the fact that precisely sixty-one full newspapers of utter drivel had been published. Nevertheless, Harry read the morning edition of the daily prophet, food dropping from his fork back onto his plate. He reached under the table and pulled his mirror out of his bag.

"Sirius Black has been sighted in Hogsmeade."

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Hal closed the lid on his small mirror, a grim expression on his face as he placed the enchanted device into his pocket. He leaned in close to Daphne, and passed the new on to her in whisper, before standing, taking her hand and throwing a couple of galleons down on the table before leaving. Daphne followed him as he pushed through the crowded pub and out into the sleet that besieged the village, she shivered as his wand appeared in his hand, but followed him as he strode quickly down the cobbled street until he got to an alleyway.

" _Homenum revelio!_ "

A large dog curled in the corner of the dark alleyway shone with sinister reddish light, and Hal started at his seemingly prophetic luck. The dog got to its feet, then saw the wands that the two students held in their hands. Suddenly, what stood before them was not a dog, but a man. Two near simultaneous bursts of colour pierced the air, striking both students, knocking them out cold.

( _four hours)_

Hal stirred, disoriented and confused as he found himself in a dark alleyway. He couldn't remember how he'd got there, but a quick check told him that he still had his wand and his bag. Wrapped around him, Daphne stirred, letting out a groggy groan as she lifted her head and blew a strand of hair out of her face. With a start, she sat up, looking around her.

"We need to get back to the castle or we're done for," said Hal, an edge of panic in his normally controlled and stoic voice.

"There's a secret passage, under Honeydukes, we can use that one, but we'll need to hide ourselves. Hogwarts students aren't permitted here this late, and we're not exactly going to be politely using the front door." Hal nodded, and cast a disillusionment charm as well as silencing charms on their feet, before allowing himself to be led by Daphne through the now deserted streets of Hogsmeade. They stole through Honeydukes, and went directly down into the basement, leaving no evidence of their presence, before Daphne opened a stone trapdoor with her wand, which led to an underground passage.

Daphne also opened the wall at the far end, then dropped to the floor out of the one-eyed-witch's hump, turning to wait for Hal.

"Looks like we made it," she breathed.

"Well, well, brother-dearest, what do we have here?"

"Looks like some naughty third years took a secret passage from Hogsmeade to me, twin-of-mine." The pair span on the spot to see the Weasley twins looking down at them, identical grins on their identical faces.

"Not that we're annoyed-"

"More impressed really-"

"That someone else managed to-"

"Find the secret passages into and out of the school."

Hal couldn't hold back his grin at the way that they spoke, aware at last that they were not going to be reported to any professors, let alone Filch. The twins continued to walk down the corridor, talking, no doubt, about their latest and greatest prank idea, and the two Slytherins walked towards the room of requirement, where they could talk without interruption. When they got there, however, they found that Harry, Neville, and Hermione were already in the room. From the furious expression on Harry's face, they could tell that the three had been waiting for quite some time for them to arrive.

"You went after him, didn't you." It was an accusation, not a question.

"That bad, huh?" asked Hermione, seeing the look of dawning horror on Hal and Daphne's faces, "did he get you with a stunner before or after the memory charms?"

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

The morning of the Quidditch match dawned, and before he had even mounted his broom, Harry's body ached. Hal had taken to duelling with a fervour that was intoxicating, seeming to take his failure at the hands of a fully trained and famously powerful wizard very personally. Harry had gone to bed every night exhausted and hurting at the hands of his friend, but he couldn't deny that he was improving. However, no matter how fast he was improving, the rate at which his friend was improving blew him out of the water. Daphne also seemed invigorated by their humiliation, throwing herself into the duelling practice with fervour. Neville and Hermione had long since given up trying to compete with the three of them, preferring instead to practice amongst themselves, or to do homework while the others stunned, burned, slowed, pummelled, or threw each other around the room of requirement.

Harry dragged himself out of his bed, pulling on his quidditch robes as the wind howled outside and the rain drummed a staccato rhythm on the roof and windows of Gryffindor tower. He made his way towards the great hall, tuning out the jeers and catcalls that were made in his direction. He slid in opposite Neville and Hermione, pulling a rack of toast towards himself and eating a slice in silence.

The rain only got heavier as the day went on, and mere seconds after they walked out onto the quidditch pitch they were soaked through their robes. Only an impervius charm kept his glasses clear. He kicked off the muddy ground, eyes roving for the snitch, hoping to end the game quickly, and found himself tailed by Diggory. He tried to fly evasively but couldn't shake the older boy off of his tail. When the timeout was called, he could only feel grateful, having been near frozen to his broom.

As they took to the skies again, in icy chill settled over the stadium, but Harry saw a flash of gold and took off after it. Diggory had also seen it, and approached the flash from above. Harry snarled as the wind tried to blow him off course, his lighter build meaning he was less able to resist it than his Hufflepuff counterpart. Suddenly, a dementor appeared in front of him, gripping his head and forcing him off of his broom. The dementor tried to pry his jaws open, forcing rotting fingers into his mouth and pulling. Suddenly the dementor was tackled off of his body by a large cat, which pinned the foul creature and savaged it. A dove flew around the stadium, warding off many of the other dementors, backed up by Dumbledore's silver phoenix. Harry retched up his meagre breakfast, and lost consciousness.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry opened his eyes, then shut them again in response to a spike of pain between his eyes. He opened them slowly, and seeing a pain relief potion on the bedside table, he reached out and uncorked it. Looking around more carefully now, he saw Hal sitting beside the bed, a grim expression on his face, as well as Hermione and Neville with near identical looks.

"Harry, when you were attacked, your broom… It flew into the Whomping Willow. I'm sorry, I gathered up what I could, but it's not much." Neville put a shattered handle on the bed, with some more large splinters that was all that remained of his top-of-the-line racing broom.

Harry was rendered speechless, unable to believe that his broom had been destroyed. He numbly felt Hal's hand on his shoulder before the he walked out of the room.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Christmas froze the waters of autumn, but no additional sightings of Sirius Black had been reported. Most of the students at Hogwarts had understandably decided to go home for the holidays, what with the oppressive atmosphere caused by the dementors. Harry had nowhere to go, and although they made their excuses, Harry was convinced that they had stayed to keep him company. The fires were stoked higher and hotter than usual, and the group were training harder than ever in the room of requirement. They had even received some instruction from Flitwick, and their progress had accelerated.

Christmas day dawned bright, and the influence of the dementors couldn't be felt for the first time that entire year. Harry opened his eyes late in the morning, and saw a sizeable stack of gifts at the foot of his bed. He opened his mirror, and Hal's face and room immediately came into focus. Unlike the Gryffindors, Slytherins had personal rooms, and it was customary for them to enchant and change the rooms to their needs. Hal's room seemed to be unusually large, and held an enormous bed and desk, with handsome and comfortable furniture dotted around the room. Hal and Daphne were both looking at the mirror, and greeted Harry, before they began to open their presents.

Hal's jaw dropped as he opened his final, and largest, present. There was no name on the papers, nor was there any writing on it at all. A Firebolt rolled onto his bed covers in the otherwise deserted dormitory.

"Don't ride it, I'll have an elf examine it. It could be from Black, and if he _is_ out to kill you then I'd rather it wasn't made so easy for him to do so," Hal said hurriedly, before calling for his elf.

The elf then appeared in Harry's dorm, took his hand and the firebolt, then whisked them both off to Hal's room in the Slytherin dormitory.

The diminutive elf then bathed the broom in magic, a pink glow that shone around the room. The elf nodded and said in a squeaky voice, "the broom is completely clear, it's just a broomstick that flies and has wards on it to prevent tampering. I's thinking that it would break entirely if you tried to mess with it."

Along with the broomstick, Harry had received a wand holster from Hal, as well as a piece of parchment with a note on it that said "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Winter faded, but the chill remained due to the dementor's continued presence, even as summer roared into life, it was muted due the the incessant evil that the dementors exuded. The third years completed their end of year tests, and still there was no word about Sirius Black. Harry had even taken to studying the map closely to try and find the escaped convict.

One such saturday evening, Harry was staring at the map closely, nose almost pressed into the paper, when he saw a name written in a cursive script. Peter Pettigrew. Hal's voice flashed through his mind, and he remembered that one of the wizards that Black had supposedly murdered was Pettigrew. Harry grabbed his mirror, and told Hal everything, sweeping up his invisibility cloak as he left the common room, heading for the main entrance where he could get onto the grounds and find the man. Hal and Daphne met him in the main entrance hall, but neither of them could find Neville or Hermione. The three of them disappeared under the cloak, and moved quickly out of the castle, Harry guiding them using the map towards where Pettigrew was hiding. However, when they got to the place where the map said he was, they couldn't see him.

" _Homenum Revelio!_ " said Daphne, and a an eerie dark purple light eminated from a tiny rodent next to Hal's foot. Hal stunned it, and then Harry gasped, because Sirius Black was making his way towards them fast. A dog leapt at Hal, bowling him over before seizing the rat from his hands and running off with it. The students sprinted after the dog, immobilising the Whomping Willow so that they could scramble into a hole down by the roots of the tree. Behind them, they heard the tree begin to creak as it regained motion.

They crawled through the low tunnel, coming to a wooden building with chunks torn from the walls, the furniture, and the floors. There were no windows in this building, and Harry realised with a jolt that they were inside the shrieking shack, having visited it on one of his illicit trips to Hogsmeade. They followed the voices, and came upon a bedroom, with a balding and pudgy rat-like man bleeding heavily while pinned under a handsome but painfully thin man dressed in tattered rags. Hal was the first to announce their presence, striding into the room, disarming Black, and speaking.

"Why, when the convict is supposed to have killed you twelve years ago, are you still alive, Pettigrew?" Black barked a harsh laugh, and pulled up the left sleeve of the still pinned man's clothing, revealing a faded skull and snake tattoo, branded onto his forearm.

"My old friend here," he spat the words contemptuously, "betrayed me and all of the people I love to his precious Dark Lord. He sold out the Potters to him as he had been made secret keeper of their Fidelius charm." Spotting Harry, he said, "this slime is the reason your parents are dead, and the reason you live with those pieces of muggle filth. I've heard how they treat you, I know what they do to you. I'm your godfather, if it wasn't for me then-" He broke off, emotion taking over his voice. "I'm the head of the Black household, if you wanted to, you'd be more than welcome to come and stay with me."

Harry considered that, lowering his wand and saying "I would like that, but how can i trust you when you killed all those people?"

"This filth killed them. You know the only part of him they ever found was a finger." He lifted the man's right arm, showing them the maimed hand. "He blew us the street behind him, cut off his finger and transformed into a rat. I wasn't quick enough and so I caught the blame for him tearing lives apart."

"A touching story, maybe you'd like to tell that one to the dementors, I'd imagine they would be so pleased to see you that they might give you a little kiss." Professor Snape emerged from the shadows, disarming Harry and Hal, who both had their wands visible. He strode over and kicked Sirius in the face, before stunning Pettigrew.

" _Stupefy!_ " said Daphne, and Snape was thrown into the rear wall of the house. Sirius covered a laugh as he stood, and turned his wand onto Snape.

" _Obliviate!_ "

The four of them crawled back through the tunnel, Sirius dragging Pettigrew, and Hal levitating Snape. Harry threw the invisibility cloak around Sirius, and told him to wait there, before the three of them ran up to the castle, levitating bodies floating oddly behind them. Hal took Snape, and sat him in his classroom before running back to meet the others on their way up to the headmaster's office.

As luck would have it, Dumbledore was exiting his office when the three of them ran up to him, panting. Dumbledore frowned, before his eyes went wide as he saw Pettigrew's prone body floating behind the three teenagers.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

The wizarding world was in shock, and the papers had a field day, uncovering the injustices that had occurred to the detriment of Sirius Black. Barty Crouch Sr. had been slammed by Rita Skeeter for the way in which he had allowed such a miscarriage of justice to occur. A close inspection of Sirius' wand, kept in Azkaban, revealed no evidence of his murder of the twelve muggles for which he had been incarcerated, and as such he was cleared of all charges. Pettigrew on the other hand, had been found unequivocally guilty of faking his own death, and was sentenced to a life in Azkaban, in the highest security cells made from smooth stone inside and out. Harry had been legally adopted by Sirius, and the pair had made their home inside one of the ancestral homes of the Black dynasty. At the end of the year, the only thing worrying Harry was a series of bad dreams, coupled with a feeling that he had missed some key detail, something that would become important.

AN

Different take on this one, I tried to emphasise Harry's role in this part, as he is always supposed to be the main character. Hopefully I didn't annoy too many people by my representation of the events at the end of the book, but as Moony had never really been introduced, nor had he ever confiscated the map, I couldn't think of a neat way to have him turn up. Nor could i think of a way in which the time-travel aspect could be explored, as Hermione didn't take an idiotic amount of classes. Besides, why would the ministry issue a potentially universe threatening device to an unqualified and demonstrably illogical (sometimes) schoolgirl? They wouldn't.

Once again, leave a review if there is something you think I've missed or not thought of, any tips on writing, stylistic points, etc are welcome.

/AN


	4. Chapter 4

AN

Nobody is safe

/AN

Harry stood in front of the mirror in his bedroom at the Black manor. He turned to see the back of his robes, the entire experience feeling oddly surreal. Sirius had taken him out that morning to diagon alley, where they had purchased all of the things Sirius had said that he 'required' in order to grow up properly. Not that Harry was complaining, he'd never had such soft clothes or such comfortable boots. Sirius had also had the will of his parents read, which had formalised the concept of Harry's heirship with a ring on his left middle finger, only removable by him, and only visible when he willed it to be. Harry sighed at the magical haircut he'd received, ensuring his hair lay flat, and at the new enchanted glasses that were perched on his face. He didn't feel like _Harry_ any more. He sighed at the view of him in the mirror once again. He didn't even look much like Harry any more.

He walked downstairs, and an elf hurried up to him holding an ice cold glass of water, which he took out of some felt obligation. The elf fell prostrate at his thanks, murmuring into the floor. Harry walked around the tiny figure and into the kitchen, where he saw Sirius eating lunch at the table. Harry walked in and picked up the newspaper that sat on the table. His mouth fell open as he read the headline:

' **Ministry in disarray at mass breakout from Azkaban** '

Harry put down the newspaper, having read that several of Voldemort's most loyal and dangerous followers had escaped incarceration that very morning. He ran a hand through his hair, which immediately rearranged itself into the orderly fashion, considering his options. He pulled his mirror out of his pocket, whispering Hal's name into it, and waited.

"Who's that?" asked Sirius.

"It's just Hal, he might not know about this," Harry responded absently.

"I don't think you should associate with him anymore, he could damage your reputation if it gets out that you surround yourself with his kind."

"Hal's my friend, I'm not about to cut him off because you want me to, he's saved my life more times than I can count. He's one of about five people I trust."

"You'll regret it if you don't break it off sooner rather than later, mark my words."

Harry looked down to see Hal's face in the mirror, an impassive expression written upon it, meaning he'd heard every word.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry looked out over the campsite, darkness had fallen and so it was lit by hundreds of tiny fires, the mood was electric due to the impending world cup match. He glanced to his left at Hermione, who was taking in the sights of how the wizarding world showed off their magical prowess while in a jubilant mood. Neville was up ahead, talking with Sirius as they walked to the their seats in the minister's top box. Harry grinned as he saw his two friends already seated in their seats, and he heard Sirius' disapproving huff as they found their own seats. After some ceremony, the game began, and it was Quidditch like Harry had never seen, faster and more brutal than even the highlights he had seen in newspapers. The Irish mascots seemed to derive savage joy from antagonising their Bulgarian opposites, causing the pitch to be flooded with arbiters who tried to subdue the violent veela without injuring any of the players flying above.

Finally, as the game and the crowd reached fever pitch, it was over. Krum rose through the air, snitch raised triumphantly in his fist. Everyone in the top box were on their feet, and Hermione threw her arms around Harry's neck and kissed him.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Shouting and panic erupted as the noise from outside the tent turned in an instant from jubilant cries to wails of fear. Sirius' head snapped round as he shouted to the other occupants of the tent. They scrambled to their feet, gathering vital possessions, and hurrying out of the flaps of the tent. Harry pulled Hermione by the hand through the crowd, focusing on reaching safety, when a loud bang rang out from behind them. A mad rush ensued, and Harry lost his grip on Hermione's hand. Harry was swept along in the flow of people all running towards the woods and to safety, and lost sight of Hermione.

Hermione couldn't see Harry. She tried to look over the heads of the crowd, trying to spot him, but she was nowhere near tall enough to see him. She pushed her way to the edge of the column of people, trying to get a better view of those in front of her, but she tripped on a guyrope and fell, hearing a snapping of wood before crying out as a horrible piercing pain lanced through her calf. She felt around, and found, with shaking hands, that a stray tent peg had gone clean through her muscle.

The screaming faded as the last of the crowd ran past her, and she heard the indecipherable chanting of men growing closer to her. Their faces were hidden behind silver masks, and their forms shrouded by flowing black robes. She felt a tear run down her face as she prayed for them to not notice her, to not spot her. Their heavy boots crunched on the gravel all around her, and most of them made their way past her prone form. One, however crouched down in front of her before calling out to the others. The group stopped, and turned, sensing a new plaything at their disposal, dissatisfied with the killing of four muggles.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Hal ran behind the ministry wizards, wand in hand and fire in his eyes. They were sprinting towards the group of death eaters; a counter attack to exact vengeance for the four muggle lives stolen by the group. Suddenly they were on top of the death eaters, and ministry wizards fell to jets of various coloured light, some going down screaming, and some just keeling over, dead before they hit the ground. Hal grunted, forcing power into his cutting curse and watching as it impacted the back of a robed figure, cleaving him nearly in half. He span to dodge a green burst of light, responding with an blasting curse that reduced the figure's chest to a smear of gore. The death eaters, in unison, activated portkeys, disappearing in flashes of blue light and leaving the remaining ministry members, around half of those who started, to collect their dead and tend to any injured in stunned silence. Hal spotted a tall dark-skinned man staring at him with a quizzical expression, but thankfully he said nothing. Hal walked over to one of the two men he had hit with spells, and tore the man's mask off, before falling to his knees in realisation. He had killed two people. True, both were murderers in their own right, but the fact remained that they hadn't gotten a chance at a trial. He was no better than they were.

A tiny, pitiful cough caught his attention, and he turned. His eyes widened as he recognised the bushy brown hair and prominent teeth, but new to him was the deep slash in her chest, as was the blood and saliva on her forehead. He crawled over to her, and noticed the blood encrusted under her fingernails as he took her hand. Her robes had been viciously ripped open, and he tenderly covered her dignity as he pressed her hand to his forehead and wept bitter tears for all she had lost.

"T-tell Harry…" she choked out the words, and Hal nodded through his tears, understanding.

"I'll tell him."

Hermione closed her eyes, and passed through the veil.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

 **Tragedy at the Quidditch World Cup**

 **By Rita Skeeter**

 **Yesterday's Quidditch World Cup finals ended in tragedy, with the deaths of four muggles and a witch at the hands of the death eaters who remain at large in our society. Shortly following the victory of Ireland over Bulgaria, over two dozen masked and armed sorcerers rampaged through the campsite at the Quidditch World Cup, murdering four muggles as they went, before finding and torturing a muggle-born witch who had become injured in her attempt to flee the death eaters. A group of ministry employees then assaulted the rampaging death eaters, killing several high-profile pure blooded wizards, but taking three additional casualties in the firefight before the death eaters escaped using portkeys. Your faithful quill wishes to remind you that the entire area was under lockdown by this point, and there was no way for them to escape through anything other than ministry approved portkeys. How deep does the corruption at the Ministry of Magic go? Who among our government cannot be trusted to do their duty to our country? This reporter will inform you as new details become uncovered.**

 **Alarming New Evidence of Ministry Corruption**

 **By Rita Skeeter**

 **Yesterday evening, Cornelius Fudge, the 108th minister for magic, was arrested by a team of aurors, following an anonymous tip-off that he had been taking bribes. This whistleblower presented indisputable evidence of several large donations from the Malfoy family to the minister, which preceded unusual events in the man's career. One such time was when, having supported the movement from its inception, minister Fudge blocked the implementation of the Ban on Wizarding Duels act of 1991. This movement was preceded the day before by a transfer of one hundred thousand galleons into the minister's campaign vault in Gringotts. Additionally, Fudge repealed the 1949 Levy on Unused Mansions act, and again this act was preceded by transfer of around fifty thousand galleons. Minister Fudge is awaiting trial, but before he can be tried, painstaking checks are being taken to screen the wizengamot for corruption.**

 **Mass Arrests Following Corruption Investigation Breakthrough**

 **By Rita Skeeter**

 **A recent breakthrough by the team investigating the corruption within the Ministry of Magic led to the arrests of five prominent Ministry of Magic officials, including the head of magical games and sports, Ludo Bagman. Additionally, thirteen members of the Wizengamot have been detained and stripped of power, after they were found to have either been bribed, or bribed another member. The remaining members of the high court refused to give a statement, speaking to the shock that they experienced upon finding that such a large and high-profile slice of the wizengamot had been untrustworthy. Decisions which were contentious will be put once again to vote, as it is unclear whether these corrupt members have changed the outcome. Old houses, inactive in political circles for quite some time are being called upon to serve their country, in an attempt to stem the bleeding which will result from the distrust that these remaining members will undoubtedly have for each other.**

 **Particular pressure is being put upon Cyrus Greengrass, as well as Sirius Black to enter the political fray, as they remain untouched by the accusations and squabbles of the rest of the ancient and noble houses.**

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry stood, shrouded in black, and with tears trickling unashamedly down his face, as he stared watched the funeral of one of his best friends. He was near to the front, between Hal and Sirius, both of whom looked at the coffin being magically lowered into the grave with grim expressions. Hermione's parents were in the very front row, and Mrs Granger cried openly into the shoulder of her husband who wore a shocked expression, in hope that maybe he could wake up from his nightmare. They had agreed to a magical funeral, as it seemed right given that almost all of Hermione's friends were wizards or witches. They didn't seem to blame anyone for what had happened, thanking Hal for giving her comfort in her last moments when he had explained to them, with a bowed head and distraught voice, what precisely had happened.

The wizard at the front of the crowd said a few words, before the earth neatly rose up in a pile, and settled softly in a low mound over Hermione's grave. He flicked his wand, and the mud sprouted grass and a scattering of flowers, giving the grave an old and peaceful feeling, but it helped nobody. Soft weeping was all that could be heard for a while, as they held silence for Hermione.

Harry stayed as the rest of the people at the funeral began to file out. His eyes were dry now, and his mouth hardened into a firm line. He couldn't believe what he'd been told, about what another human being could do to their own kind. He turned to leave, then stopped when he felt a pair of arms slide gently around him. Daphne held onto Harry for a few seconds, rubbing his back gently as she hugged him, before stepping back. Harry didn't have anything to say, there were no words that he could say, but he knew that Daphne understood him. She walked away from him, wind snatching at her hair as she moved away from him, stopping beside Hal, who nodded sorrowfully at Harry, before taking Daphne's hand and touching a pendant around his neck which whisked the pair away in a flash of blue light.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Hal looked out over the lawns of the manor house, carefully maintained at an even height by a combination of house elves and intricate magic. In his mind's eye, he replayed the events of the World Cup again and again, wanting to find some issue in what he had done, which would have allowed him to save Hermione. He saw again the two men, one with a caved in chest and one with his upper body slashed diagonally, connected only at the very back. One had been confirmed as Hamal Nott, a pure blood and one of the vilest death eaters, whereas the other had been Anton Carrow. He saw their faces in his head, and wondered if they had been the ones to kill his friend. Hal didn't even really know why he had followed the ministry group, but his instincts had told him to go with them. There was no way he could have known… was there?

A crash from within the house caught his attention. The elves never made so much noise, and his mother was bedridden as of late, Daphne had gone home, and Neville was staying with Harry and Sirius to keep Harry from feeling alone. His wand appeared in his hand.

Hal stalked through the darkened house, and he heard raised voices from within his mother's room. Hal disillusioned himself and snuck through the splintered door to see a quintet of death eaters standing in front of his mother's bed, now stained a horrific red colour. The death eaters turned, and began to spread out through the house, looking for him. He quietly crept over to his mother's corpse, and found the wand hidden inside the sheath made from demiguise hair that she kept it in. He stowed it in his pocket; it would not do to lose such an old and powerful artefact. He saw his mother's eyes drift closed, and felt the heirship ring on his finger vanish, replaced by the somewhat more substantial ring which signified that the rule of the house had fallen to him. He whispered a goodbye to his mother, and turned to see living flame rolling towards him, consuming the room with a frightening speed.

Hal brushed the stone on his ring, thinking of the constantly maintained bolthole that the Selwyn family possessed, and immediately he appeared over the doorstep. He had no doubt that the death eaters had come to exact vengeance for the two lives that he had taken at the world cup.

As it was, however, he wouldn't stand by while the death eaters sought his blood, discounting the fact that they had destroyed his home where he had lived for the entirety of his life. Hal moved into the small study, flicked his wand at the lamps, and pulled a piece of parchment towards him.

Quickblade,

My mother has been killed and as such I am now the head of the household. I want you to hunt and kill those responsible for her death and the subsequent attempt on my life. You will be compensated based on the speed and viciousness of the revenge you exact.

May blood and gold flow in equal measure, Harold Polaris Selwyn.

Hal cut his thumb with a spell from his wand and pressed the wound into the parchment, before pointing his wand at the paper and muttering an incantation. The ritual to check his claim of house headship required his blood, and without the ritual the goblins of gringotts would do nothing to help him. Hal lit a small fire in the grate, and tossed some floo powder into it after pointing his wand towards the flame to unlock the fire. He placed the sealed letter into the fire, and directed the fireplace to take it to his account manager at the bank.

Hal pulled out the wand he'd taken from his deceased mother and laid it on the desk in front of him. It was the oldest wand in Britain, as far as he knew, and even the materials that it was made from were enough to raise eyebrows. The wood was from a dwarf ebony tree, which had become extinct around two hundred years beforehand, and yet it showed no signs of wear on it. In fact, the wooden exterior was more highly polished and pristine than any wand bought even the day before. The core was another oddity that had gone out of fashion; it was created from a dragon heartstring which had then been soaked in the venom of said dragon, and the core of his wand contained both elements. Needless to say, if the wand broke it would be hazardous to even attempt to repair it. The handle area had splints of greenish ivory made from a basilisk's tooth attached to the wood, both to focus the magic that the wand channeled and to make it more comfortable to use the wand. There was a reason that wands were no longer made like this, it took too much time to make a single wand with such a core, and the venom of a dragon had to be extracted from the living animal, which was dangerous in and of itself to collect, let alone try to put inside a wand. Couple that with the great expense of even a single chunk of basilisk tooth, and you have a wand that was punishingly expensive to buy, and mortally dangerous to make, but which channelled the magic of a skilled user to such a precise degree that it enhanced both their accuracy and control of their magic.

Hal gripped the hilt of the wand, and the magic within seemed to peer at him, assessing his worthiness to use such a tool. He remained that way for nearly a minute before he felt a rush of warmth from the wand, and he shot out a singular spark from the tip of the wand, smiling at the level of control he now had over his magic. Not that his other wand had been imprecise or sluggish, but this one was so far above his old one in every way that the sum of the differences was astounding.

He next retrieved his enchanted mirror, and left messages telling them that he was safe. He was sure that the razing of his home and the death of his mother would be in the news, and he didn't want them to worry. Hal got the elf that kept the the place to bring him some food, and he lay in his bed, unable to sleep.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry sighed as he walked onto the Hogwarts express, carrying his empty owl cage and a bag containing the things he'd need for the journey. He made his way towards the group's usual compartment, ignoring the whispers that came his way from the usual suspects, and slid the door open gently. Hal and Daphne were already there, sitting as they usually did with Daphne's feet in Hal's lap. Neville was on the opposite bench, looking concernedly at a second year ravenclaw student, who was a mirror image of Daphne, although her hair was straight and black as opposed to wavy and blonde. The second year was in tears, telling them about how Malfoy had shouted at her for being in 'his compartment,' and had threatened to curse her and her friends.

Hal sat down, after stowing his luggage, listening to her talk and watching the amusement on the faces of Hal and Daphne as the girl detailed how rude Malfoy had been. Harry sat down and pulled out a book, waiting for the train to start moving.

Astoria Greengrass had wandered off soon after the train had started moving, and the compartment fell into comfortable silence as the occupants completed various activities to distract themselves. Neville was pruning a tiny tree in a terracotta pot the leaves of which Harry would have sworn were wriggling like tiny green maggots. Hal and Daphne were playing chess, and from the unhappy expression on Hal's face, it was going very badly. Harry himself was reading the book that Hal had gotten him in his second year, about transfiguration. He had become fascinated by the subject, and had read the discoveries all the way from the Egyptian era up until the middle ages. Harry was convinced that the rate of discovery was accelerating, and considering that he was not even a third of the way through the book and had covered far more than half of the years, he seemed to be correct. Harry had a notebook beside him, collecting useful tidbits of information from the book into a more compact form. He had just read about Gamp's laws when their compartment door opened, and the face of Draco Malfoy appeared.

"Alright, Squib, Scarhead, Pyro, Whore, and Mudblood…" he smirked, "oops, my mistake. Make that just the first four." He opened his mouth to keep talking, but found that no words came out. He gasped for air as Daphne's furious face appeared in front of his.

"Don't you _dare_ call her that. You dishonour your family name by insulting the deceased, not that your family had any honour to begin with." Daphne turned, flicking her wand again, and sending the pureblood flying out of their compartment to land in a heap on the floor. She closed the door using her wand, and the sliding glass door ruined the effect somewhat when it shattered in its frame. Hal pointed his wand at the missing glass panel, and the shards reformed themselves into a single pane.

Hal shared a dark look with Daphne as she sat down, and whispered to her,

"How could he have known about my manor if his family wasn't involved in the attack as they say? Malfoy's going to get himself killed by running his mouth one day, that or his family." Daphne nodded, pulling him into an embrace to disguise her answer.

"His mother's not a bad person. I honestly believe that she can't have had much to do with raising him; his behaviour smacks of his father's influence, although that's not surprising considering how he talks of him," she began to quietly imitate Draco, keeping it so that Hal was the only one to be able to hear her, "my father will hear about this development, mark my words, filthy half bloods!" Hal snorted in amusement, noting the truth in her words.

Rain began to saturate the air as they approached Hogwarts, filling the train with a somewhat relaxing background of noise. The four of them continued the activities that they had been doing prior to their interruption by Draco. Hal had perked up after the food trolley had been around, his moves becoming bolder and far more successful. After defeating Daphne, tying up the score for the journey, he waved his wand to pack up the chess set. Harry frowned,

"I thought you were left handed," he said. Hal shrugged.

"I've been practising with both hands over the summer." He paused to frown at Daphne's giggle, before coughing lightly. "I'd say I'm proficient with either of my hands at most of the wand-work." Hal blushed slightly at Daphne's increasing mirth.

"Also," began Harry, "is that a new wand?"

Hal pulled out his inherited wand, and handed it to Harry, whose eyes went wide as he held it in his hand. He gave it back quite quickly.

"That does not feel right," he muttered, "it feels powerful, but it's so cold, like it's chiseled out of ice."

Hal grinned and, taking back his wand, explained the history and significance of it.

"It's probably the oldest wand in Britain, and certainly one of the most powerful. My family has historically used it to prove ancestry, as it will only work - let alone feel right - for a member of my bloodline."

"It's weird," said Harry.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

They disembarked the train, heading up towards the carriages. Hal stopped short, staring at the thing that pulled the usually horseless carriage, which appeared like some winged horse, without any flesh, and with scaly black skin which clung to the skeleton. He frowned, and reached out to touch the thing, petting its head as it nuzzled into him. Daphne appeared by his side, eyes wide, and tentatively reached out and felt the strange creature too. The rain, diverted around them by a specialised form of the shield charm, regained their attention as a bolt of lightning split the air, followed closely by the thunderclap. Hal grinned and boarded the coach, which began moving as soon as Daphne closed the door.

Peeves attempted to waylay them as they disembarked the coach, but was warded off by a quick spell from Harry's wand. They filed inside, Harry and neville peeling away from Hal and Daphne as they made their way to the tables on opposite sides of the room. Harry deliberately sat in a new position from his normal one on the Gryffindor table, in the hope of warding off uncomfortable memories. Sirius had linked his mirror with his own, so that Harry would be able to contact him whenever they needed to talk, whether that was an academic concern or a mental one.

Harry lost focus during the usual start of term speech, focusing on organising his mind in the way that Sirius had taught him. Hal's form of instruction had been useless for teaching him occlumency, but it appeared to have worked for Daphne. Instead of that way of being taught, Harry had gone to Sirius who had taught him how to do a series of meditations to achieve mastery over his mind, and Harry had progressed far enough that he was able to continue working on it himself. Whereas Hal's method provided an introduction to legilimency, Sirius' technique was purely defensive - although it had benefits for how his memory performed. What grabbed his attention back was the mention of another highly dangerous even happening at Hogwarts; the Triwizard tournament was being held at the school, reinstated after being abolished more than a century ago as it had been classed 'too dangerous' even for wizarding society.

Harry had no interest in fame, or riches. He had more than enough of both of those, but he thought that a good tournament might be a fun thing to watch, even if he wasn't going to compete. Harry looked around, and saw that Hal looked thoroughly bored by the entire thing, as did Daphne. Harry smirked. They were too good at being Slytherin, and he wondered whether there was any teacher in the entire school that could properly read either of them, what with their unusually-subtle body language and newfound mental blockades.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

The first few weeks passed uneventfully, save for a nasty prank by the combined forces of Peeves and the Weasley twins on the caretaker, but nobody had much sympathy for the bitter old man. Harry was once again practicing his mental exercises as he stood in rank with the rest of the school, and waited for the competitors from the foreign schools to arrive. Sensibly, there had been an age restriction placed on entry into the tournament, as no student except for the very best sixth and seventh years could realistically be expected to survive three death-inducing tasks. It was unknown exactly how the Goblet of Fire selected its champions, but it was theorised that it looked into their magical potential in addition to their real power, and selected those with the greatest untapped potential, as though to encourage those students to perform better by placing them in a high pressure environment. A teaching device, if you will.

Suddenly, as Harry stood and watched, an enormous golden carriage pulled along by magnificent winged horses appeared over the forbidden forest. At the same time, the lake began to bubble and boil as a mast thrust itself out of the depths of the lake into the air. The delegates from each foreign school filed out to the applause of the assembled school, and were then invited inside for the feast in their honour. Harry sat down beside Neville, and saw Krum walk down the aisle next to the Slytherin table and sit at the end away from everyone else and next to Hal. The rest of his school dispersed among the Slytherins, removing furs and cloaks and looking up at the enchanted ceiling with wonder. The beauxbatons delegates arranged themselves amongst the Ravenclaws, and they too looked around with much interest, although they disguised it much better. Harry ate his food. He took little pleasure in food, in fact, he took little pleasure in anything, really. He felt so tired all the time, and to him, the effort of just existing was beginning to wear on him. Sirius' talks could only do so much, and while they were helpful, and while Sirius had good advice, he didn't seem to properly understand his godson.

Harry finished his plate and set his cutlery down, waiting for the inevitable speech that Dumbledore would give. He didn't have to wait overly long, although it was long enough for one of the french students to ask him if he had finished with a dish. He noticed Ron Standing up and making a gulping face at the girl and groaned inwardly. Usually somewhat intelligent and witty, Ron turned into a gaping fish when he saw the girl. In his defence, however, he wasn't entirely alone in that fact. Fully half of the boys in attendance, and a small number of the girls too, had turned and followed the Frenchwoman's progress across the hall, although none of them had reacted as Ron had. Harry looked over at Hal, and saw him smirking as he watched the redheaded Gryffindor make a fool of himself.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," said Dumbledore, "I present to you, the Goblet of Fire!" He waved his hand and the carved wooden cup on a pedestal in the centre of the room burst into multicoloured flame. Dumbledore always had a soft spot for theatrics. He explained the rules of entry into the tournament, how it was a legally binding contract, and how participants had just forty eight hours to enter their name, starting from the end of the feast. Then Dumbledore made a big show of drawing an age line around the cup, and enchanting it with a wicked grin on his face. Harry shuddered; he wouldn't want to be the one who triggered that age line.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

The next day saw the fourth years experience a defence lesson like no other. The Gryffindors and Slytherins sat with rapt attention as Moody explained about the lesson. He took a huge spider from a cage, engorged it, and placed it on the desk in front of him.

"Alright, who knows an unforgivable?" asked Moody. When nobody answered, he pointed at Daphne.

"The imperius curse places the victim wholly under the control of the casting wizard." she said, in a bored drawl.

" _Imperio!_ "

The spider then began a series of disturbing maneuvers, swinging around the room like a superhero, then performing a tap dance across the front desk. After a few minutes of getting the spider to throw itself around the room, Moody released the curse.

"Another curse. You! Longbottom!"

"There's one - the cruciatus curse," Neville said in a timid voice. Hal lifted his head off of his hands, staring at Moody, who wore a savage grin on his face.

" _Crucio!_ "

The spider fell flat for a second, legs splayed out horribly, then it rolled over into a twitching ball and rocked back and forth. Moody was staring into Neville's face as he held the curse on the spider, which had begun to leak a greenish liquid from the joints of its carapace. Moody only lifted the curse when Harry had banished a small piece of wood and held it in between the spider and the curse, breaking its effects. The spider continued to twitch, and Moody coughed before continuing.

"Yes, as demonstrated by Potter, these curses can be blocked by physical objects. There's no shield strong enough to block any of these, you have to conjure, deflect, or dodge these ones. The cruciatus curse causes constant unbearable pain for as long as it is held on the target, pain like no other. People have been known to lose their minds under its effects." Moody's mouth twitched as he talked, as though proud of himself.

"The last curse is the worst. Avada Kedavra, the killing curse." Moody demonstrated, pointing his wand at the still twitching spider, he shouted

" _Avada Kedavra!_ " And with the sound of rushing death, and a flash of green light, the spider became instantly, unmistakably, dead.

Hal was still staring at Moody, brow furrowed in deep thought.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

The great hall was much louder today, what with it being the second feast in two days. People kept looking at the time, waiting impatiently for the drawing of the champions to begin. Harry was picking at his food, as usual on Halloween, the anniversary of his parents' deaths. Finally, after what seemed like an age, the golden plates cleared themselves and Dumbledore got up to talk. After calling the hall to silence, he walked over the the Goblet, and placed his hands upon it.

"The cup will now select our three champions!" The cup obligingly flared, meter long flames in full technicolour spurting out from the top, before a fragment of parchment flew from the top, fluttering through the air to land in Dumbledore's hand.

"The champion from Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum!"

The hall burst into applause, and not one of the Durmstrang students seemed surprised. Harry wondered if they'd even bothered to put their names into the cup, as none amongst them showed even the slightest bit of anger or disappointment. Krum stood up and walked out of the hall into the door that Dumbledore was indicating. The cup flared once more, sending out a plume of smoke with another parchment piece.

"The Beauxbatons champion will be Fleur Delacour!"

Once again, the hall broke into applause, but the majority of the french students in and around the room looked like somebody had killed their childhood pet. One girl had even broken down into noisy sobs as Fleur followed Krum out of the room.

Tension filled the room as they waited for the announcement of the Hogwarts champion, and everything became silent such that you could hear a pin drop. The goblet flared once again, spitting out a pristine piece of paper, just as it had twice before.

"The Hogwarts champion will be Cedric Diggory!"

A roar broke the silence as the Hufflepuff table leapt to their feet as one, hoisting Cedric on their shoulders. Harry couldn't help but grin at their antics, as he knew that Cedric had been one of the few people to have ever given the Hufflepuffs any glory. They set down the older student at the end of the table, and he walked calmly out of the room and joined his counterparts.

"Excellent! We now have our three-" Dumbledore broke off, as the Goblet had flared once again, spitting the charred remains of a slip of parchment out into the air. Dumbledore caught it almost reflexively. The room was silent once again, as they watched the headmaster struggle to make out the name on the paper.

"Harry Potter."

In unison, all heads in the room turned to stare at Harry. Even Hal was looked shocked as he turned to face his friend. Harry stood slowly, and walked down the aisle in a stupor. A voice in the back of his mind that sounded unnervingly like Hal's spoke

" _ **You know you didn't do it.**_ "

Harry stopped near the staff table, and turned to face the student body.

"I, Harry James Potter, swear on my magic that I did not knowingly enter this tournament."

Pure silence followed his announcement, and a soft golden glow suffused Harry's body, simultaneously confirming the presence of the oath, and confirming that his magic had not, in fact, vanished. The only sound that could be heard were Harry's steps as he followed the three champions into the back room.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry threw himself into training with a renewed passion. He wasn't going to give whoever wanted him dead the satisfaction of succeeding. Harry had just finished getting his behind handed to him by Hal once again, and was gulping down the water that the room of requirement had provided for him. He watched as Hal and Daphne took up positions, and began to duel. Hal was certainly the more powerful of the two, fast and precise with his magic, with a great deal of force behind each spell, but Daphne was a better defender, able to block, dodge or deflect everything that came her way. She shot spells back at him in the fractions of a second when she was not moving, and her assault caused Hal to slow his own attack somewhat. Harry was astounded at the fact that they were both duelling in absolute silence, so as to reduce the time required to cast a spell. Hal's aggressive style of fighting meant that Daphne was constantly on the back foot, always defending, and it was only a matter of time before she slipped up and got stunned. She backed off, jumping over a conjured barrel that had been banished at her, and catching a jet of red light on her wand tip, angling it to the side so that it ricocheted off to the side of the room. Another jet came at her, and she barely missed the timing required to catch it, and it hit her in the shoulder. The room created a large pillow under her as she fell, ensuring that she did not injure herself on the way down.

" _Enervate!_ " said Hal, pulling the girl to her feet as she woke up. They both looked exhausted, and Harry remembered that they had been training to duel for over a year by this point, with what sounded like intense one-on-one training with a duelling champion over the summer. Harry had been surprised at how long he'd lasted, considering that he was duelling purely off of reflexes and his fairly advanced spell knowledge, at least for a fourth year.

Daphne brushed the dust off of her robes and took her position on the circle while Hal flopped down into the plush sofa that the room had provided. Harry stood and walked over to the duelling circle, and bowed to her as a formality. Harry immediately began to snap off as many spells as he could, as fast as he could, but Daphne deflected every single one that would have hit her with a mind-bending display of her perfect timing. She returned fire, and suddenly Harry was on the defensive, and proving to be much less adept at it than Daphne was. A stunner got past his shield, and he fell to the floor. Once again, the cushion appeared to prevent injury, and Hal revived his friend. Honestly, Harry was doing much better than they could have hoped for, what with his non-existent formal training and seeming lack of enthusiasm for it towards the end of last year.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry was sat in the tent, waiting for his turn to face a dragon to try and get an egg. He had drawn the decidedly short straw, as he had gotten the rare and dangerous Hungarian horntail. It wasn't a problem, Harry had already thought of a plan for how he was going to deal with the dragon. The roars and screaming of the crowd wasn't helping his nerves, he thought.

Finally, after almost an hour while the three other competitors faced their overgrown lizards, Harry was called out by the sound of a cannon to face his dragon. He strode into the arena, immediately taking cover behind a rock, before pointing his wand at the sky and casting a silent summoning charm. The horntail watched the rock behind which he was sheltered with animalistic, predatory intelligence, but he waited until it came. Laughter began to come from the crowd as they watched him waiting behind a rock for nearly twenty seconds. Suddenly, Harry seemed to vanish, and from behind the rock ran several white rabbits and a ridiculously oversized chicken, as large as a great dane. The dragon snapped, and stalked towards the chicken, leaving its eggs unguarded, before it roasted the chicken with a great gout of flame. The dragon grabbed the chicken in its mouth, and settled back over her clutch of eggs. Harry reappeared, holding the golden one under one arm, entirely untouched and grinning like a madman, having finished in under five minutes. The crowd were silent for a second, before a great roar broke out, and Harry lifted his egg above his head as he turned to the judges and received his score.

Dumbledore held his wand up, and a cursive nine appeared out of thin air, in the form of a golden ribbon. Maxime also gave him a nine, with Karkaroff giving him a seven. The two ministry wizards also gave him nineteen points between them, putting Harry firmly in first place due to the simple yet perfectly executed plan that he'd had. Not to mention some seriously impressive transfiguration for a fourth year, but people had come to expect greatness from Harry in transfiguration.

The party in the common room later that evening showed Harry that his house supported him, perhaps a little too much considering the noise and mess that they made in his honour. Even Ron, who'd seemed even more bitter and jealous of Harry in the intervening weeks, came and congratulated him on his simple method for getting past the dragon. Harry now only had to worry about two things, solving the clue inside the egg, and getting a date for the Yule Ball. He was dreading the latter far more than the former.

AN

Some notes on Hal's ability to take out the death eaters. He took them by surprise, it was in the middle of a firefight, and he is supposed to be powerful anyway. I'm sorry for killing Hermione, but someone needed to go as I didn't want this fic to turn into a 'deus ex machina saves everyone that Harry cares about' fic. Also, I feel like I wrote her particularly poorly, so it's at least partially my fault. I've decided to split the chapter, as I'm at 7500 words and I'm about halfway through the year. Even so, this is my longest single chapter so far.

More notes: Sirius just de facto distrusts and dislikes Slytherins, hence his prickly behaviour to them. Hal and Daphne are going to end up together, but they're fifteen at this point. Nobody is smooth at that age. I might not even write a love interest in properly for Harry, not everyone has to be with someone all the time. I would say the same for Neville, but I like him and Luna.

As always, leave a review if you liked it, or if you hated it, or if you kinda thought it was meh. Any stylistic tips are appreciated.

/AN


	5. Chapter 5

"Why do they have to travel in- packs?" said Harry to Neville, as he cut through the the castle courtyard on their way to transfiguration. Nearly a week had passed since the announcement of the Yule ball, and it seemed to Harry that the castle had suddenly been filled from top to bottom with girls.

"Look, Harry, you'll just have to ask one of them out. You're starting the dancing off, you of all people need to get a date."

"I don't know if I'd be comfortable going with someone I don't know." Harry continued, as they went through a the door to close in on the classroom.

"Then ask one out to Hogsmeade, there's a Hogsmeade weekend this saturday and sunday," continued Neville, "why don't you ask Daphne? You could go as friends."

"She's already going with Hal, Nev. Even if she hadn't already said yes, they're basically together at this point."

"What about Ginny, or Lavender?"

"Ginny creeps me out, she's quite stalkerish, and Lavender's already going with Ron," Harry grimaced as he spoke, pitying the girl as he knew how Ron thought the evening would go - he'd made _that_ very clear to Seamus and Dean the night before.

"I was thinking one of the foreign students might put less pressure on you, if you could get one your age and alone." Harry nodded thoughtfully at his friend's words, before an idea slotted into place in his head.

"What about Susan Bones?" he suggested to Neville.

"What about me?" said the girl in question, causing Harry to swear and turn to face the Hufflepuff in question, leaning against a wall to wait for McGonagall. Fortunately they were very early to class, and as such they were the only three students there. Harry couldn't help but notice that she was rather pretty, with subtly red hair unlike the weasley clan, and an attractive face.

"I was wondering if you'd want to go to the ball with me," he said, shrugging. Susan giggled, standing up from the wall and moving a step closer to Harry. His mouth suddenly felt uncomfortably dry as she looked at him appraisingly.

"Alright, do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend, get to know each other?" she said the last five words in a playful tone, and Harry grinned at her.

"Meet you in the entrance hall at like ten?"

"See you then."

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry stood in the entrance hall, nervously waiting for Susan to arrive. A fine layer of snow covered the ground, and the air was a special kind of biting cold. At precisely three minutes past ten, she arrived, bundled up in winter gear. She looked around and, spotting him, made her way over to him with a smile on her face. She took Harry's hand, engaging him in conversation while they waited in line to be signed out by Filch. Harry was surprised that she was so easy to talk to, sharing many of his own interests, and also taking mainly the same subjects that he did. That certainly made conversation easier. The talk ebbed as they reached the elderly caretaker, who leered uncomfortably at the pair of them, but fortunately didn't say anything. As they stepped outside of the school doors, Harry placed a warming charm on the pair of them, causing them to not feel the chill of the air around them.

"Where to?" asked Harry.

"I thought we could do a little bit of shopping, or just find a coffee shop or something. This is the largest all-magical town in the UK, we should be able to find one somewhere."

Harry smiled, and casually walked over to Scrivenshaft's. It was when he went to open the door that he realised that he still held her hand in his. They browsed the various quills there, talking about nothing in particular, and each showed the other various quills or inks that the found.

They meandered their way from shop to shop, before finding themselves in the three broomsticks for lunch. The pub was incredibly busy, what with the cold weather and harsh wind, and so Susan went to find a table while Harry secured food and drinks. Susan ended up sharing a table with Hal and Daphne, who had been drawn into the establishment by the warmth and their hunger. Susan watched them with interest; neither one was talking, but they would break into giggles every minute or so. She suspected that they were listening in on someone else's conversation and huffed in annoyance. She didn't like eavesdropping. She jumped when Hal spoke to her.

"We're not eavesdropping, if that's what you're worried about."

"Well you're not talking to each other either." Hal merely shrugged, and then went back to eating his food.

Soon after, Harry arrived, holding a receipt and sliding into the chair opposite Susan. He noticed her scowl and passed her the butterbeer he'd gotten for her. Susan kept looking over at Hal and Daphne every time they laughed, and Harry eventually caught on. "They're not being rude, they're talking. They're both occlumens and legilimens, they can communicate in that way. Well i guess all it would really take is one person who could do legilimency, but this way is faster." Susan looked over at the pair, a look of wonder crossing her face.

"I couldn't figure out what they were listening to. I feel like an idiot now for being so mad at them." Harry looked over at Hal, and caught his wink.

After they'd finished at the three broomsticks, Harry and Susan resumed their browsing of the shops, occasionally buying something that caught their eye. Finally, after a few more hours of shopping, Harry dragged Susan back to the castle, purchases shrunk and devoid of weight to make the transit easier. The pair were silent other than the crunching of snow under their shoes, but it wasn't a silence that needed filling; it was an easy, comfortable silence as they looked around at the breathtaking Scottish highland scenery. They drew closer to the entrance hall, but before they went in, Susan stopped.

"Harry, I want to say thank-you. I've really enjoyed today, and I hope you'd be up for spending some more time together." Harry blushed, and began to stammer something about how it had been fun, when he suddenly realised two things. One was that Susan had gotten very close to him, and the other was that she smelled like peaches. Harry was so close to her that he could count each individual freckle spread across her nose. Could, was the operative word, as Harry had much more pressing matters at hand. He closed the distance between them, kissing her innocently and gently. They broke apart after just a few seconds, and Susan smiled sweetly at Harry, who blew out a shaky breath and returned her grin.

Neither of them spotted the small beetle perched on the wall next to them.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry walked into the main hall to an even greater number of whispers than usual, greater even than he had experienced after Skeeter's first two articles about him had emerged. He made his way towards the Gryffindor table, and as soon as he had sat down, an image of a news article appeared in his mind, and he somehow knew exactly what it said. He also heard Hal's voice.

" _ **You might want to be a bit more discreet next time, Cassanova.**_ "

Harry groaned and put his head down on the table, causing the nearby Gryffindors to look at him in alarm. He glanced over to the Hufflepuff table, and found Susan, who raised her eyebrows and smiled at him. Not so bad then.

Harry rolled his eyes when the post owls came, and a veritable flock came and landed before him, jostling to give him their letter first. Neville immediately began removing letters and placing them in a pile, which grew at an alarming rate as the owls completed their delivery to him. A similar story was happening on the Hufflepuff table, with Susan and her friends relieving owls of their notes as fast as they could. Harry, having experienced this kind of mail after the other two articles came out, went over to Susan.

"Don't open any of them without checking for curses or anything. I got three cursed letters after that last article. Use 'specialis revelio' to check for any magical residue on the letter or envelope. Also, try not to take them too seriously, they don't have much to do and so they write angry letters to strangers."

"Thanks for the tip," she paused, "it was bound to get out eventually, I just wish I could've told my family on my own terms." she trailed off at the end, and gave Harry an awkward hug before he went back to the Gryffindor table.

Neville had just about managed to get all of the letters off of the owls, and as such, the feathery tornado around him had lessened, leaving a mound of letters as well as feathers everywhere. Harry began tearing open the letters, tossing aside the negative ones with contempt, and skimming the positive ones. Better for his head if he did it this way.

A commotion at the Slytherin table caught his attention, with Draco Malfoy stumbling away from an angry looking Daphne Greengrass, assaulted by an assortment of eating utensils as he ran back. "I still cannot fathom why you'd whore yourself out to lesser houses, Greengrass. I can only imagine some kind of love potion, and perhaps a-" he was cut off mid shout by a glass shattering on the back of his head, causing him to slump unconscious due to a severe concussion.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

In the end, all Daphne got were lines. Snape hadn't wanted to punish her at all, but Dumbledore had stepped in and forced him to assign detentions. The atmosphere in Hogwarts reached a fever pitch with two days left until the Yule ball, and nearly everyone in fourth year and above was staying to attend. The castle was enveloped in a thick blanket of snow, and the beauxbatons students had moved into the castle to avoid the biting chill.

The house elves of Hogwarts brought forth a wide range of warming soups and stews, which staved off the chill that pervaded even the castle. Harry, Hal, Daphne, and Neville spent more and more time in the room of requirement, practicing duelling and learning advanced spells. Harry couldn't believe the level that he'd achieved in just a few months; his magic felt stronger and more precise than ever, and his body was becoming used to dodging spellfire. Harry's occlumency prowess had grown easily as much as his duelling skill, and he was able to shrug off assaults from Hal with relative ease. Daphne was still able to penetrate his mind with annoying ease, but even so he was able to throw off quite a lot of her attacks. Harry watched Neville duelling Hal, and winced as he remembered the ease with which Hal had been able to defeat him at the start of his own training. Now, however, Hal had to properly fight if he wanted to beat Harry, Harry scowled at the thought, as he'd never actually beaten Hal in a duel. Daphne he could beat most of the time, as her defensive style was focused on counterattacks, which left her vulnerable when someone was able to keep up an almost constant stream of magic flying her way.

The girl in question was watching the duel with an almost bored expression, one hand idly stirring a cauldron as she waited for the contents to come to boil. Harry had managed to figure out what the noise of the egg was, and had committed the song to memory. The four of them had been researching methods for Harry to stay underwater for a long enough duration to compete in the task ahead. They had also been practicing with silent casting, as Harry would be unable to speak while underwater and he needed to be able to cast in order to protect himself. Neville had proven surprisingly adept at silent casting, thought Harry as he watched the duel come to its logical conclusion with Hal untouched and Neville in a sweaty heap on the floor. The longbottom heir was certainly more capable than the rest of the fourth years at duelling, but the other three had risen to become among the best in the school. Neville got shakily to his feet and slumped down on a cushion next to Harry, a glass of water appearing in his hand. Daphne got to her feet, casting a timing charm on the cauldron and taking up her position opposite Hal.

They'd been coming to the room to practice their duelling at least four times a week, and as such they'd improved at a rate which easily rivalled that of an auror academy. Harry thought that they had even progressed beyond nearly half of the teachers in terms of prowess. He quieted down to watch his friends duel, noticing the almost invisible wall that the room constructed in front of them to protect them from errant spells.

They bowed, and almost instantly jets of light began to fly from Hal's wand, which Daphne deflected using the tip of her wand. The technique was incredibly hard to master, and perilous should you fail, as you had to perfectly time the slash of your wand with the arrival of the spell. It was, however, capable of blocking a far wider variety of spells that the standard shield charm, and due to the small size of the shield, it required little power to maintain. Hal didn't let up his barrage of spells, advancing slowly as Daphne gave up ground to him so as to better defend herself. A minute passed, and neither combatant uttered a single word, yet the duel continued. They paused, both of them breathing heavily, before Hal slashed his wand at Daphne, transfiguring the very air into razor-sharp daggers which flew at the girl, which she turned into butterflies with another flick of her wand. Hal twirled his wand, and the floor beneath Daphne froze into ice, and she stumbled before regaining her footing. Ropes flew at Hal, which he turned into snakes, which then turned into smoke and reformed as a swarm of bees. Hal engulfed them in flame, before florushing his wand at Daphne, causing a red hot whip to fly towards the girl, but she ducked neatly underneath the attack. They paused once again, before Hal growled and shot a bolt of lightning at Daphne, whose shield failed to hold all of it back, causing the girl to stumble, drop her wand, and fall. Hal summoned her fallen wand to his hand before he walked over to her and pulled her to her feet before embracing her.

The cauldron buzzed, as the fifteen minutes of simmering were up and the potion required attention, which Daphne hurried to provide. She was attempting to brew liquid luck, and had finished adding all of the ingredients, meaning that the potion had to boil for seven days before standing for three weeks in order for it to be ready. Already golden droplets of potion leaped above the surface, in characteristic fashion of the fiendishly difficult potion.

In the corner, the grandfather clock struck eight o'clock, and the four dutifully filed out of the room so as to avoid the ire of Filch if they were caught out of their common rooms.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Christmas morning found an air of quiet anticipation hanging over the school, with nearly all of the students showing some level of excitement for the ball that evening. Ron had nearly died of embarrassment, as well as some finely chosen hexes, after he had asked Fleur to the ball with him, but he'd felt better after he had insulted Hal and Daphne for daring to exist.

Harry had rolled out of bed to find his dress robes had been washed and pressed by the house elves, and threw on a christmas jumper over jeans and a t shirt to head down to breakfast. He piled his plate up with food before someone slid into the bench next to him.

"Susan, how come you're at the Gryff table?" he said, surprised as this event was generally unheard of, as people normally dated within their own house. The girl shrugged, leaning her head against his shoulder as she pulled a plate towards herself.

"Just wanted to see you, I guess. What time d'you want to meet tonight?" Harry frowned as he chewed his bacon, and swallowed before answering.

"Maybe quarter to? The ball starts at eight, but we might as well meet a little earlier." Susan nodded and carried on eating, easily talking about nothing in particular, and holding a casual conversation with the Neville before she finished and got up from the table. Harry followed her, ignoring the wolf-whistles that echoed through the great hall seemingly on all sides. Taking her hand, he whispered into her ear.

"Follow me, I know a place." Susan giggled.

"My, Harry, you're going to give a girl the wrong idea if you talk that way."

"I- It's just a place where we can… talk uninterrupted." he stammered, clearly uncomfortable with her implication.

They wound their way through the castle, making their way to the seventh floor.

" _ **I need a private place to talk. I need a private place where nobody can find us. Give me a place to talk.**_ "

Susan gasped as a brass door handle popped into reality, which Harry pulled open to reveal a cozy room with a merrily crackling fire, with a packet of cocoa along with a kettle. Harry sat down on one of the two smallish sofas, and Susan followed him, wonder in her eyes at the room.

"What are the limits of this room?" she asked in a quiet voice, as she sat next to Harry.

"It can't produce food, nor can it produce true life, nor love. It is limited only by the magic that powers it, meaning that it can produce near-anything with relative ease."

"Can I try?" she asked, eyes wide as she watched Harry nod. The room reformed into a log cabin, with the same crackling fire, but with furs on the floor and a mountain view out of a newly formed window. The door did not change; it seemed to be the only fixed aspect of the room. Susan tilted her head while looking at Harry, and a sprig of mistletoe appeared above the sofa.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry stood nervously in the entrance hall at seven forty-five, alongside Hal and Daphne, both of whom had managed to make themselves look incredible. Hal wore a muggle suit that had a midnight blue colour, and managed to pull it off such that not even Malfoy commented on his decidedly non-wizarding attire. Daphne wore a dress that was a lighter blue than Hal's suit, which made her look beautiful but reserved. The pair complimented each other magnificently, and the whole thing was topped off by their family rings. Hal wore a ring set with a blue stone; the Selwyn ring, as well as a little larger one, with a green stone that had been Slytherin's house ring. Daphne wore the Greengrass heir ring, leaving off the Lestrange heir ring deliberately; she didn't want to be associated with or reminded of her connections to that murderous and unstable family.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he saw Susan making her way towards them, in a dark green dress that complimented her hair well. The usual plait was replaced by free curls of hair, which fell neatly around her shoulders and framed her face well. Harry took her hand, pressing his lips gently to it in formality, before Hal and Daphne left to give them privacy. McGonagall hurried over to the pair, ushering them over to the other champions. Cedric was going with Cho, and Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour went together. Harry suddenly felt uncomfortable, as he was the youngest wizard there and had to compete with the older students in a tournament that could easily end with the death of one or more of its participants. Harry felt a brush against his occlumency, and looked up to see Dumbledore staring at him, a deep frown on his face. Harry struggled to contain a flash of anger that rose to the top at the thought of Dumbledore attempting to break into his thoughts.

"Any questions?" asked Mcgonagall, "well in that case, we'll begin the ball with the champion's dance."

She led them into the great hall, which had been drastically changed from its normal form, and down an aisle created by two rows of students. The string quartet began to play a slow ballroom song, and Harry found himself dancing with Susan. After a couple of minutes of the three couples dancing, the rest of the school began to filter onto the dancefloor - those who had managed to get dates, that is.

After a while, Harry found that he was incredibly thirsty, and so he and Susan had ambled off to find a drink. Butterbeer was incredibly bad for you, as it was comprised almost entirely of fats suspended in the frothy, slightly alcoholic, liquid. Harry steered clear of it, trusting in the slightly inebriated nature of the teachers to ensure he wasn't noticed. The pair of them mixed a vicious concoction of firewhisky, white rum, and iced lemonade, and found a place to sit. They watched the other dancing couples for a while longer, bantering about who they thought would 'get together' before the night ended. Harry's confidence had certainly been boosted by Susan's companionship, as the bubbly easygoing Hufflepuff was doing a fantastic job of keeping him from brooding on his unlucky fate that seemed to chase him wherever he went. Harry took Susan's glass, and refilled it with the same cocktail that they had drunk earlier. Not that either of them needed it, as both of them were fairly lightweight when it came to drinking - as they were discovering with mixed feelings.

Harry returned to find that Hal and Daphne had found his date, and the three of them were laughing at the way that Hagrid was trying to dance with Maxime. Harry passed Susan her drink, sippin on his own as he sat down, and ignored the smirk that Hal was shooting his way.

The time slipped away in a haze of drinks, music, and jokes, and Harry noticed that the ballroom music had been replaced by a more lively wizarding band. Daphne drained the dregs of her drink, and dragged Harry onto the dancefloor, where she pulled him into an embrace and the pair swayed in time with the music. They were far from the only people still dancing, and so they went mostly unnoticed. Hal grinned at Daphne.

"They make a good couple, don't they?" he said thickly. Daphne gave a shaky nod, then nuzzled into Hal's neck. He chuckled, raising her chin with a finger, and kissed her softly.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry groggily opened his eyes, taking in the canopy of his four poster bed with a lazy motion of his tired eyes. A dull throbbing in his head caught his attention as he sat up, causing him to blow out his breath shakily. He was assaulted by fragmented memories of the evening before, remembering the volume of alcohol that he'd consumed with a sick feeling in his stomach.

"I'm never drinking again." he slurred to nobody in particular.

"That's what they all say, dear." replied the mirror on the wall. Harry hated the enchanted mirror, with its snide remarks and backhanded compliments, but it had been attached to the wall with a permanent sticking charm. Harry dressed himself slowly, casting a headache relieving charm on himself which did very little to actually stop the pounding in his head.

Harry sat down heavily on the Gryffindor table, pulling a large plate of scrambled eggs towards himself. He noticed similarly pained expressions on a large proportion of the student body, and quite a large number of the faculty as well, but he didn't have it in him to smirk. He watched as Susan came in and walked over to him.

"I am never, _ever_ drinking again, I swear…" she spoke in a hoarse voice, and Harry couldn't hold back his grin.

"You and me both. The mirror made fun of me this morning for being hung-over. The git doesn't know how it feels." they shared a laugh after that. Neville dropped into the seat opposite the pair, and smirked at the two of them.

"Are you going to ask if you can transfer house, Susan?" he asked cheekily, causing the girl in question to brandish her fork threateningly.

"That's enough from you, Nev. Besides, there's nothing in the rules that say you have to sit at your house table. People just don't tend to make friends outside their own house."

The post owls filtered in, bringing Harry a letter from Sirius, who congratulated him in the most embarrassing way about his date. Fortunately, it wasn't a howler, but Harry's bright red face said enough about the contents of the parchment for Neville to break down laughing.

" _You_ shouldn't be here," said an angry voice from behind Harry's shoulder, "this table is for Gryffindor, not the cowardly _'puffs_." Who else but Ronald Weasley. The boy had been in a foul mood after failing to get a date for the ball, and his jealousy of Harry only increased when he had seen how Susan had looked at the ball.

"She's my girlfriend, so if you'd kindly _piss_ off and keep your nose out of my business." Harry responded with equal venom to his words, and the redheaded boy drew his wand, and screamed out half an incantation, before a burst of red light caught him in the back, causing his wand to fly into Hal's hand. Harry gaped at the boy's fantastic timing, as he threw Ron's wand back at him, which Ron inevitably fumbled and dropped. The gangling teenager's face was as red as his hair, and he made to fire a spell at Hal when the Weasley twins came and dragged Ron back by an arm each.

"Ever so sorry, Harry," said one.

"Yes, we don't know what-"

"Came over our dear younger brother."

"We'll ensure he properly regrets trying to curse you-"

"Using a series of fiendish pranks."

Harry laughed at the twins, who seemed to genuinely respect Hal for some reason, before turning back to his breakfast. Susan was still scowling at her smoked salmon, and Harry took her hand and stroked the back of it with his thumb.

"Ignore him, he's jealous," started Harry, "if I didn't want you here, I'd have asked you to go myself, Suse. Seeing as how I haven't done that, you're more than welcome to stay." Susan's expression softened at his words, and they continued eating.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

In the end, Harry had settled on Gillyweed for the second task, as it enabled faster swimming than either partial transfiguration or the bubble-head charm. Harry was confident in his abilities, especially now that he was able to perform many spells silently. He stood on a wooden platform stretching over the lake, breathing deeply to calm his nerves as Dumbledore explained the nature of the task to the assembled students and staff. The ancient teacher turned to the four champions, asking if they were ready, before counting down from three and letting off a bang like a gunshot from his wand.

Harry shoved the gillyweed into his mouth, grimacing at the bitter taste, before he dived into the icy water of the lake. His hands and feet had become webbed, and his skeletal structure had changed to enable faster swimming. He'd also grown gills, and he marvelled at how far he could now see in the once murky water. Harry silently cast the point-me spell, knowing that the deepest point of the lake was roughly north of his initial position, and struck out in that direction. He saw Fleur also swimming towards the north, but he easily overtook her with his altered biology.

Before long, Harry arrived at the mer-people's village, and saw four people attached by rope to an enormous statue encrusted with barnacles. He recognised two of the people attached, as one was Cho, and one was Susan. He could also tell that Fleur's intended rescue was directly related to her, as they shared the same silvery hair and fine features. The remaining person attached to the statue had very similar features to Krum, and was certainly related although he looked significantly younger than the Bulgarian quidditch star.

Harry swam over to Susan, pulling out his wand as he went. He cast a silent cutting charm at the ropes binding her, before he wrapped an arm around her waist and swam towards the surface of the lake. The going was much slower now, as he had to carry Susan's weight and couldn't use his hands to propel himself, but he still made good progress.

Suddenly, a set of razor sharp teeth latched onto his ankle, and Harry nearly dropped his wand in shock. He kicked out towards his assailant, and felt his foot connect with its skull. The pressure on his feet lessened, and he shot a silent cutting curse at the water demon, which connected well with the creature and filled the water with a fog of blood. Harry knew he had to move, as the scent of blood in the water would doubtless attract other predators to his location. He put a numbing charm on his foot, and continued to swim towards the surface of the lake.

He felt the effects of the gillyweed wearing off, and so he gave a great burst of speed, breaking the surface of the water just as his gills vanished. Susan gave a great spluttering cough as she woke, and found herself immersed in frigid lake water. The pair swam quickly towards the wooden platforms, heaving themselves out of the water with a great effort. They were the first ones back, and as such Madam Pomfrey was able to give them her full, undivided attention, pressing pepper-up potions into their hands and wrapping thick towels around them.

After nearly twenty minutes, Cedric surfaced with Cho, followed closely by Krum who dragged his brother, and Fleur who pulled her sister behind her while bleeding profusely from cuts to her legs. The judges conferred, speaking with the mer-chieftain, and eventually came to a decision which Dumbledore related to the crowd.

"As the only champion to return within the time limit, we award Mr Potter the full fifty points, as he demonstrated excellent use of gillyweed and silent casting to enable magic use while underwater. Mr Diggory will be awarded thirty points, being penalised for his slow time, despite good use of the bubble-head charm. Mr Krum will be awarded twenty-five points, as he was even later in his return than Mr Diggory, but demonstrated ingenious partial transfiguration in order to survive. Miss Delacour will receive twenty points, as she was the last champion to return, and was almost waylaid by grindylow as she travelled back.

"This places Mr Potter in first place, with ninety-four points, and as such he will receive a time advantage going into the final task. Mr Diggory will then enter simultaneously with Miss Delacour, followed by Mr Krum. There is a four month window between this the second task, and the third and final task. I ask that the champions do everything in their power to prepare themselves for the third task, and they will be informed within the month of the nature of the task."

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Unusually for Harry, nothing much happened in the intervening months between the two tasks. He continued to develop his knowledge and power, attaining greater heights than ever in his duelling capabilities, and continued to excel in his classes, especially transfiguration. Harry wasn't particularly nervous about the third and final task, other than the fact that whoever had put his name in had one last chance to harm him. He spent more and more time with Susan in the run-up to the task, and even the Slytherins stopped bullying them about their deepening relationship, although Harry thought that Daphne may have had something to do with that fact. If anything, Harry felt almost excited as he stood outside of the giant hedge-maze, waiting for the signal from Dumbledore. This was more like what he was used to; getting past magical dangers, traps, and beasts was something of a speciality for him.

Harry plunged into the maze when Dumbledore's wand-blast sounded, and immediately the sound of the crowd faded entirely. He immediately used the point-me spell, knowing that the center of the maze lay towards the east. A silver orb floated behind him, sending pictures back so that watching the third task was not mind-numbingly boring. Harry walked quickly, and yet found nothing to inhibit his path, which was more disconcerting than anything else. He faintly heard Dumbledore's wand blast again, meaning he was no longer alone in the maze. Suddenly, he saw Hermione's corpse on the ground, lacerated and bleeding, and he shrank back in shock. Her corpse then changed into Susan's, before shifting into Hal's, then the form of Daphne.

" _Ri-Riddikulus!_ " stammered Harry, and the body was suddenly dressed in overdone clown's makeup. He got to his feet and continued, casting the four point spell at regular intervals to ensure that he was on the right track.

A scream pierced the air, coming from the left of Harry, and he sprinted towards the noise to see Fleur twitching on the ground, Krum standing over her and keeping her under the cruciatus curse.

" _Stupefy!_ " shouted Harry, causing the much larger boy to topple over. Harry sent up a jet of red sparks, signalling the position of a champion in need, before he ran back to where he had come from. Decidedly shaken by his co-champion's brutality, he continued in a more wary fashion.

Harry came to a crossroads, and performed the four point spell once again, taking the leftmost path. He continued between the rows of oppressively dense shrubbery and came before an enormous creature, with the body of a lion, and where the neck should be was the upper body of a woman. The creature also had great wings tucked in on either side, and Harry had no doubt that this sphinx would be more than capable of killing him without breaking a sweat. Harry sighed,

"I suppose you've got a riddle for me?" The sphinx nodded.

"First think of the person who lives in disguise,

Who deals in secrets and tells naught but lies.

Next, tell me what's always the last thing to mend,

The middle of middle and end of the end?

And finally give me the sound often heard

During the search for a hard-to-find word.

Now string them together, and answer me this,

Which creature would you be unwilling to kiss?"

Harry remained silent for a moment, thinking through each line carefully. He was also taking the opportunity to catch his breath, so he wasn't in too much of a hurry. The sphinx just smiled at him as he worked through the riddle. Finally he coughed.

"A spider." the sphinx's smile widened, and she got to her feet and squeezed into the bush on Harry's right to allow him past. Harry continued down the path. According to the four-point spell, the cup should be right in front of him. Cedric appeared in the path just behind Harry, and the pair broke into a sprint.

Although Cedric was faster than Harry, he couldn't get past him, and as such the pair reached the cup nearly simultaneously. They both got a hand onto the cup, and Harry felt the familiar sensation of a portkey activating.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry landed badly on a gravel path, slamming down and having the air knocked out of him. Cedric already stood above him, wand in hand, as he pulled Harry to his feet.

"Somehow I don't think this was a part of the task," said Cedric, "Let's keep on our guard, huh?" Harry nodded, retrieving his wand and squinting into the darkness around him. The two boys appeared to be in a graveyard, with a huge cauldron standing in the middle of a circle of graves. There was a tense silence as they lit their wands, staring out into the blackness to see anything.

Suddenly, Harry's scar split open with pain, and he grunted at the instantaneous nature of the agony. A man walked forth, flanked on either side by hooded figures. He shot ropes from his wand, binding Harry and Cedric together. Harry was rendered incapable of action due to the pain he was in, and Cedric had been caught by surprise. The man set down a bundle of robes that he'd been carrying, and levitated Harry and Cedric over to a statue, picking their wands off of the floor. A woman stoked a fire underneath the cauldron, and almost immediately the silver-grey fluid within began to boil. The man pulled back his hood, revealing rat-like features and a cold glare. He lifted the bundle, and dropped it into the cauldron, causing the potin within to turn a deep green.

"Flesh of the servant, willingly sacrificed." intoned the woman, as Wormtail rolled up his sleeve and produced a large silver knife. He brought the knife down on his right arm, severing it with a scream. The man grunted as he picked up the appendage which was leaking blood and dropped it into the potion. The surface of that potion turned orange, and flared white-hot for a second, burning itself onto Harry's retinas even through his eyelids.

"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken." The woman chanted, stoking the fire. Wormtail had seared his stump to stop it from bleeding, and was advanging on Harry with his knife. Harry yelled as the knife sliced through his clothing, and Wormtail held a vial next to the wound, collecting the blood from Harry's arm. He threw the entire vial into the cauldron, causing it to turn a sickly pink, and flare brightly once again.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given." The ground underneath Harry's feet cracked, and a femur rose up from the grave, before floating over to the cauldron and dropping into it. The potion flared once again, and this time it did not abate. Harry felt a wave of heat wash over his face and closed eyes, as raw magic flowed out from the area where the cauldron had been.

"Robe me." commanded a high, cold voice, and it was then that Harry knew that he was doomed. "Where is my wand?" that same voice requested, taking the offered stick of wood. He waved it almost casually, and a jet of molten silver flowed forth from the tip, sticking to Wormtail's stump and causing him to howl in pain.

"T-thank-you, master." said the pitiful man from his position on the floor of the graveyard.

"Now, let us see which of my servants remain loyal to me." he motioned to the woman standing beside the melted remains of the cauldron.

"Come, Bella, I require your arm." Bellatrix gleefully hurried over to the man, and offered her bare left arm, to which he placed a deathly pale forefinger. The tattoo burned red the moment he touched it, and Voldemort turned to Harry. He was tall, with a head of curly black hair, with a handsome face and high cheekbones. The only unusual things about his appearance were his bright red eyes and his deathly pale skin. Voldemort chuckled.

"Surely you wouldn't have expected me to return as some perverse half-man when it is I who have gone further than any towards immortality. Surely you know of how powerful Lord Voldemort is. I would not curse myself to a half existence for all time; that is not befitting of a true lord of wizardkind."

"You're a monster, and you will be killed for your crimes." Harry spat with bravado he did not truly feel.

"You filthy half-blood! You'll talk better of your lord!" screamed Bellatrix, incensed at his disrespect. Voldemort merely chuckled.

"Well, well, that _is_ some Gryffindor bravery. Be calm, Bella."

Figures began to pop into existence in the shadows around the graveyard, robed and masked as was the usual death eater fashion. They came and stood in a circle around him, and he began to berate them for their lack of effort to find or restore him to his body. He tortured a few of them, before he unbound Cedric. He forced the boy to his knees, and held him under the cruciatus curse until long after blood began to leak from the boy's mouth. Unlike most victims of the curse, he did not twitch or spasm on the ground after it was relieved, as he had died in the throes of a seizure induced by the curse's potency. The death eaters remained grimly silent as their lord tortured the boy, knowing all too well the feeling of his wand on them.

"Now, Harry, we duel. I'm sure you know how," Voldemort sneered at him as he released the ropes from around the boy and gave him back his wand, "first we bow." Harry remained upright, unwilling to give Voldemort the satisfaction of getting to him. The dark lord raised an eyebrow at his refusal.

" _Imperio!_ " but Harry still did not bow.

"Well, that is most rude, Mr Potter," said Voldemort in a mocking tone, "What would your filthy mother say if she knew her child had forgotten his manners?"

" _Crucio!_ " Harry was suddenly overcome by unbearable pain, as if his skin was tightening over muscles that had become replaced by liquid fire. It was as though his skull was caught in an inexorably tightening vice, but as quickly as the pain started, it stopped.

"Get up, Harry. I wish to duel with you; show me what the champion of the light has to offer."

Harry rolled to his feet, shaking slightly.

" _Stupefy!_ "

" _Avada Kedavra!_ "

The incantations rang out simultaneously, and the jet of green impacted the bright red light in mid air. A constant beam of golden light connected the tips of their wands, and at the centre of the circle they had trodden out was a ring of gold. The death eaters exclaimed in cries of sheck at the development, rushing to aid their master, but they found that none of them could approach the circle. Harry focused, and slowly the ring of gold moved towards Voldemort, causing his wand arm to shake as it approached. When it reached him, an arm emerged from the wand, followed by the rest of Cedric, then a golden hand, before his mother climbed out of the wand, smiling sadly as she made her way over to Harry. Harry had tears in his eyes as a man that looked very much like him emerged from the wand.

"Harry," his father said, "we can distract him, give you a moment, but that's all we can buy you. You need to escape here, tell Dumbledore. He'll know what to do." Harry nodded as tears streamed openly down his face, and he felt his mother's hand on his shoulder.

"Please take my body back. My father needs to know what happened here. Don't blame yourself, Harry." Cedric's apparition said solemnly.

The ghosts dived at Voldemort, blinding him while Harry broke the connection, sprinting over to Cedric's body and summoning the cup to himself.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

The smell of grass filled his nose, and Harry felt himself lying on a soft lawn, clutching the still cooling body of Cedric. He choked back a sob as the fanfare died, and remained on the grass even as the screaming started. He rolled over, seeing Dumbledore standing over him, and deliberately dropped his occlumency shields when he felt Dumbledore's touch on his mind.

"He's back, Voldemort's back," Harry choked out, "Cedric - he asked me to bring his body back." Dumbledore nodded once, lifting Harry to his feet as Moody approached the pair. He took Harry from Dumbledore, who was distracted by the minister of magic bombarding him with questions, and stumped off into the castle, near dragging Harry.

He threw Harry roughly down onto a chair in his office, shutting the door behind him.

"Imagine how honoured I'll be when it emerges that not only did I deliver you to the dark lord, but then I was the one to finish you off after you escaped." Harry merely stared at him, too mentally exhausted to take in the words. Quick steps sounded from outside the door, which was blown off its hinges as Hal appeared in the room. Moody was hit by three stunning spells from different people before he even had time to react, the magical discharge throwing him into the wall opposite where he was standing. Hal, Daphne, and Neville appeared in the room, before Neville ran off to fetch Dumbledore. Hal wrapped his cloak around Harry, who'd started shivering, and waited for Dumbledore to arrive. By that point, the death eater impersonating Alastor Moody had transformed back into his normal form, and Dumbledore was stopped short when he saw the identity of the imposter.

Harry was taken to the hospital wing, where he was given a dreamless sleep potion, and faded off into oblivion.

AN

Sorry if Harry seems too strong, or if i've offended anyone by pairing Harry with Susan. I considered going down the same route that JKR went down with padma patil, but i thought this would be more intersting. Harry works well with how i've characterised Susan, so i dont see it as much of an issue personally.

As for the way cedric dies, i thought that if the cruciatus can send someone into madness then it could trigger a seizure or just plain kill someone. It seemed fitting that Voldemort demonstrate his brutality in such a harsh way.

AS always, leave a review if i've offended you, give any stylistic pointers, etc. This is primarily a learning experience for me


	6. Chapter 6

Sirius scowled as he appeared on the wide cobbled path leading up to the imposing Selwyn castle in Nottingham. He resented having to travel here in order to see his adopted son, although he could not refute the fact that the castle was perhaps the second best protected magical building in the entire country after Gringotts. Seeing as how the most powerful dark wizard to ever live had recently returned, Sirius had swallowed his pride and allowed Harry to be taken care of the Selwyn family elves in the Selwyn family castle. He placed his hand on the door, and felt the enchantments recognise him, before it creaked open to admit him.

Two weeks had passed since the final task, and Voldemort's return, and Harry had still not woken up. The house elves told him that it was some kind of curse, something appeared to be draining Harry's magic from afar, and as such he had been reduced to a comatose state. Sirius suppressed a sigh when he saw the boy's body. He was worried about him.

Dark magic, of course, leaves traces, and the ritual that Sirius had managed to pull from Harry's mind was certainly dark. Dark enough that the Black family library had an entire tome dedicated to the subject. It was a ritual first developed by Herpo the foul nearly three-hundred years ago, and used flesh, blood, and bone, along with the magical power of a chosen victim, to restore the target to near-full strength. Such a ritual could only be used in one situation, however, as it required a soul without a permanent body. In short, the person must have made a horcrux, and then been killed. This had worried Sirius greatly, a sentiment shared by both Hal and Daphne when he'd told them, especially considering the fact that in their second year, an object that appeared to be one of Voldemort's horcruxes had been weaponized. Due to the nature of a horcrux, you weren't supposed to use it as a weapon, but as a safeguard, and the use of it outside of its intended purpose suggested that Voldemort had made more than one horcrux.

Hal had then pointed out that that likely meant that he'd made either two or six, as three and seven were the second and first most powerfully magical numbers. Voldemort was famed for his near superstitious adherence to certain arithmantic properties, such as seven original death eaters, and the way that his followers roamed in packs of three or seven to this day. Sirius had almost vomited at the thought of making two of the vilest magical construct, let alone six of the things, and he had set out to discover and destroy any that he had found.

His search had been fruitful very quickly, as even a cursory search of his own household led him to discover an object that was obviously a horcrux, and given that it had been reported to have disappeared around the time of Voldemort's first rise to power, it seemed likely that he was the culprit. The only two problems were that Sirius had no idea how to destroy it short of basilisk venom (which he could not get,) and also that the locket had been the only horcrux to turn up in his search, despite him using very large sums of money to try and find the cursed items.

While he had found a book on the curse in relation to the ritual, Sirius had been amused but annoyed to find that his ancestor had not been interested in actually _curing_ the disease, rather, he'd been more keen on ensuring that the disease killed the host, and the steps that one must take to ensure death occurred. Fortunately, Voldemort had been unable to take any of these steps, the most direct of which was actually murdering the boy, but that didn't mean that Harry was safe.

Sirius looked up as Hal walked into the room, wearing a white apron singed around the edges over casual clothes. He carried an old leather bound book in his hand, murmuring as he read the incantations within. He set the book down and picked up his wand.

"Sirius, I've found a ritual which might buy us a little more time for Harry. His magic is being drained, and so if we increase the reservoir that is being drained, then Harry might even be able to wake up, allowing us to do the more complex rituals to try and actually break the curse." Sirius nodded slowly, knowing that no ritual was entirely without risk, but also knowing that the boy would not have suggested it if he believed for a moment that it could fail.

Hal pulled back the sheet covering Harry's chest, and pulled out a jar filled with a sticky tar-like substance, which he unscrewed and used to paint runic symbols onto Harry's chest. Hal then pulled out his wand, and traced over each of the symbols in turn, causing them to glow blue as they filled with a magical energy. The glow faded after they had all been lit up, and Harry's breathing got a little easier, but he still did not stir.

"That appeared to have some effect, so I'll continue to research similar rituals. If all else fails, then we have another option, although it's not one I'd like to consider."

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Hal threw down his quill and dug his knuckles into his eyes in frustration. He'd found four cases of the ritual, but in every case the victim had died and the dark wizard had been returned to full strength. Harry was still unconscious, despite a further week and several more rituals to aid his magic. Hal was almost out of ideas, and had taken to hiding Harry under his invisibility cloak at all times, which had the effect of slowing the flow of magic out of him.

Hal had found a few options, none of them good, but he was prepared to do a lot in order to save Harry. He'd worked for almost the entire week, requiring Daphne to pull him away to rest or even to eat. Almost that entire time had been spent plotting, trying to find a fail-safe way to enact the ritual that he'd found, and more time on top of that trying to find a way to stop Harry or Sirius from finding out about it. The ritual he'd found was dark, very dark, and he was sure that Harry would never forgive him if the boy knew what it entailed, but Hal had forgotten how to care about that. All that mattered at this point was saving Harry, even if that required murder.

And it did require that. Magic was a lot more mathematical than most wizards realised, and the power of a wizard could be quantified in a relatively simple way. A magic user's power was comprised of three 'dimensions' of their power, being power, control, and soul. All things, even muggles, had a length in the soul dimension, and squibs had a length in the control dimension too, with obscuri having a length in the power dimension. The overall power was a scalar product of the three, and could be increased by several rituals.

The rituals that had been done so far had increased Harry's control and power, but had had little effect on his soul, which was what the curse was mainly drawing its power from. In order to empower the soul of a person, one had to take power from another, in a ritual which was similar in some ways to the creation of a horcrux. You had to break someone's soul, strip that soul of its identity by capturing it temporarily in a deliberately weakened horcrux and torturing it, and then bind it magically to your own soul, or in this case, Harry's soul. Hal hadn't liked the idea, but the strongest form of the ritual involved the entire soul of another person being captured and forced into Harry, which necessarily involved the death of another being.

Suddenly, Hal sat bolt-upright. He knew where exactly to find a fragment of a strongly powerful soul, and knew exactly what he had to do in order to weaken the horcrux so that the soul within could be removed of its identity. The locket of Slytherin, encased deep within the castle for protection, contained exactly such a piece of a soul. It was even fitting that they'd intended to destroy that horcrux anyway, and this method entirely removed the utility of the horcrux as a means for preventing death.

The door behind Hal creaked open, and Daphne slipped into the softly lit study. Hal cursed under his breath when he saw the time, as he'd promised to stop working almost two hours ago. He opened his mouth to defend himself from Daphne's inevitable tirade, but before he managed to get any words out, Daphne's finger pressed itself to his lips, silencing him. She flicked her wand casually, and the chair that Harry was sat on extended to form a short sofa, onto which Daphne sank.

"Hal," she spoke in a low voice, "I know why you're working, and I get it, but it's not healthy. Have you looked in a mirror in the last few days? I'm going to be honest here, you look dreadful. I get that you need to cure Harry, even if it is out of selfish pride," she smirked at Hal's guilty expression, "but you need to take care of yourself. Come to Diagon alley with me tomorrow. Take a day off, Harry is stable, he's not going to get any worse in a day, whereas you just might go insane." Hal nodded at her words mulling them over slowly; she knew him far too well for him to be able to refute her points.

"Look, I'm sorry that I've spent so much time ignoring you so far this holiday, but I believe I've made a breakthrough. If I'm right, and I've double and triple checked the calculation, so I do think I am right, then we can use the horcrux to break the curse by giving a boost to Harry's soul, freeing up at least some of his power to possibly overturn the curse and, naturally, destroying the horcrux in the process. Two birds with one stone, if you will." Daphne's eyes turned sad as he said that.

"You were researching methods that involve literal murder in order to save Harry's life? I know you. If you were researching it then you fully intended to perform that obscene ritual on someone to save Harry." Hal found a sudden fascination with the parchment in front of him, avoiding Daphne's accusing eyes, but she took his hands in hers.

"He'd never have forgiven you if you'd gone through with it, you know." Hal nodded, and pulled the girl into a hug, which she tightened. "Come to think of it," she said in a playful tone, "I don't think I'd have forgiven you easily either."

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Hal and Daphne appeared in the entryway to Knockturn alley, away from prying eyes, in a swirl of robes as they apparated in. As a form of wandless magic, it couldn't be traced by the ministry, not that they could realistically trace a witch or wizard in a crowded magical environment over the summer anyway. Hal had learned the skill from one of his house elves the week before, and had taken great pleasure in shaving seconds off of tasks by apparating everywhere. Hal ran a hand through his hair to dispel the last of the discomfort from apparation. Daphne followed him as they walked out of the entrance to the shady alleyway and into the much wider street of the main shopping alley.

The path widened as they walked past Ollivander's, and the sun emerged from behind a cloud to warm their backs as they walked down the street hand in hand.

"Where first?" asked Hal, taking his Hogwarts letter out to see what books he needed for the year.

"I guess flourish and blotts, then Malkins, the apothecary, and then lunch?"

They walked from shop to shop, buying the various items that they needed for school, plus some that the two of them just wanted, such as a small bottle that connected magically to an external container, meaning that you could carry up to ten liters of any drink with you, and have it be kept hot or cold. Conversation eventually turned to Voldemort.

"What I can't figure out is why he hasn't done anything yet- I mean- he hasn't killed any muggles or ended a family as far as we can tell."

"It's probably because Harry screwed his plans up for him. Harry was supposed to die on that night, truly returning Voldemort to full strength, but he didn't. That would mean that he's weakened. Also, I'm fairly sure that at least half of the ministry believes that Voldemort's back, seeing as how his followers have been unusually active in terms of politics and preparations. Those who are looking are seeing a society prepare for war, and one of those people is Amelia Bones. Fudge is denying Voldemort's return, the idiot, but you can't really blame him; last time Voldemort was strong he damn near destroyed wizarding Britain." Daphne scowled, and they continued to shop.

The day wore on, and they picked up various items that they had to acquire for school or otherwise, and they were heading back to the entrance to Knockturn alley in order to disapparate, when the very air in the alley exploded. Hal hit the ground roughly, feeling a sharp pain in his ribs, before he rolled and got to his feet with his wand in his hand. He saw several dark shapes stalking through the obliterated street towards him, and he faintly noticed fires in the background, and the sound of screaming. He dived to the side, letting off a jet of purple from his wand in mid air as a burst of red sailed over his head. The spell impacted one of the shadowy figures who fell to the ground and writhed in pain.

Hal moved quickly into the meagre cover provided by stacked crates next to the ruins of a small bookshop, throwing heavy bone-breaking curses and other potentially lethal magic in an effort to preempt an attack from another death eater. His spell caught a particularly fat death eater who had been trying to flank his cover, and tore through his stomach, releasing a foul smell into the air as the huge man went down. Hal vanished some rubble, before sprinting hunched across the street to similar cover on the other side with thick smoke to cover his movement. One of the robed figures spotted him, and Hal couldn't dodge out of the way of the cutting curse entirely, resulting in a two-centimeter long incision at top of his left shoulder. That same death eater ripped off his mask and spewed blood from his mouth as his organs turned into paste.

Four robed figures remained that could be seen taking concealed positions, trying to cover each other as they fired spells. Hal found that his cover had suddenly turned into a cloud of splinters which tried to embed themselves into his flesh, meaning that he was in the open, but he caught an orange pulse on the tip of his wand and redirected it with a flicking motion into another of the death eaters, whose head promptly separated itself from his body. Fire spewed at Hal from behind a low wall, which he turned into a pair of huge snakes, which promptly began attacking the man who had conjured the fire.

The sky darkened around the alley, as Hal's overpowered explosive curse impacted one of the two remaining death eaters, which caused sudden and violent removal of the man's entire torso. He faintly heard a series of cracks around him, and wizards in white robes rushed onto the scene just as a woman in an elegant gown stepped from a cloud of black smoke. Hal ran over to Daphne as the white robed wizards engaged the two death eaters, one of which was stunned almost immediately, while the other fought like a woman possessed, killing a ministry wizard with nearly every spell and cackling while she fought. Daphne stirred as Hal revived her, and leaped to her feet when she heard the sounds that were coming from the firefight nearby. Hal watched as one of the white robed wizards disapparated, before the scene fell silent and the woman spoke.

"Well, you _are_ a surprise! I enjoy a good fight, and it looks like you gave my lord's men quite the lesson in duelling!" Hal snarled at her and shot a jet of light, but her wand rose up and deflected it almost faster than Hal could track it. Daphne joined the fray, focusing on defending herself as Hal, thus enabling him to put on a withering attack, every spell of which the woman managed to deflect. The longer they fought, the harder the woman laughed, as she derived a savage but very real pleasure from the struggle. She even began to talk as she duelled, shrieking through her peals of laughter.

"I've not felt so _alive_ in **years!** "

Auror teams began to pop into existence a small distance away from the duelling trio, running over as they fired curses at Bellatrix's form. Hal saw her smile falter, before she flicked her wand at a nearby building and disapparated in the resulting explosion, which deafened many of the aurors and knocked a good number of them to the ground as well.

After everything, the ministry lost twelve hit wizards, with another five injured, and six death eaters were killed, with one being captured. Hal was pulled in for questioning, but after reviewing the memory he was released without charge.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Hal had told Sirius what they had planned to do, and understandably, he had not been a fan of hte idea. When presented with the indisputable fact that Harry's condition was steadily worsening, however, he came around. Thus Hal found himself in the somewhat insane position of placing a locket under the cruciatus curse, and then in the even more insane position of hearing that tortured locket scream.

After nearly half an hour, he removed the curse, and brushed out with his legilimency to see if he had done his job correctly, and he found nothing contained within the locket except for a huge amount of entirely clear magic where before there had been a roiling mass of black tendrils with vicious intent. The soul fragment was ready. Harry turned to Daphne, who looked rather paler than usual, having listened to a living soul being torn until it was unrecognisable, but her work was perfect as was usual. Harry's entire body was a maze of lines and runes, all painstakingly copied out of one of the oldest books from the Selwyn library, and where the original text was illegible, were calculated from the arithmantic properties of the ritual itself. Hal inspected her work, while she inspected his.

Sirius levitated Harry down from the bed that he was laid in, and into the middle of a seven-sided shape around which were trickled various components, including dragon blood, phoenix tears, and manticore venom. The flow of magic into the shape had to be very, _very_ carefully controlled, or else it would ruin the ritual and cause some disastrous and unpredictable event to occur. As such, Harry had been dosed with the draught of living death, and would neither wake nor use magic until he was revived with wiggenweld potion. Harry in his sedated state would be joined in the circle by the locket containing the soul fragment, as well as a rare crystal that stored magical energy like a capacitor which would provide the energy for the ritual to complete. Hal, as the person present with the greatest knowledge of the ritual, as well as having prodigious control over his magic, would be the one to perform said ritual.

Daphne breathed out slowly as she watched Hal kneel on the point of the shape at Harry's feet, and although she couldn't hear his words, she could see the effect they had on the runes painted onto Harry's body, as they began to glow a multitude of colours. The process continued for nearly five minutes, after which the colours slowly faded out into Harry's skin tone, leaving him with no visible marks anywhere on his body other than the plethora of scars that the boy had picked up over his years of abuse at his so-called family's hands. Hal flicked his wand towards the door, and it swung open to admit a Sirius Black who began to bombard Hal with questions, despite the teenager's reassurances that the ritual went perfectly.

Daphne gave Harry the wiggenweld potion, and watched as his eyes fluttered open, and he found himself on the floor of a strange room wearing only his underwear.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Sirius had caught Harry up on the time for which he'd been unconscious, and just as everyone had expected, Harry was unhappy with the way that they had saved his life. He disliked the fact that they had used a piece of Voldemort's soul to fortify his own, and also disliked the way in which they had prepared the chunk of soul. He was pleased, however, that they had found a way to fix him, and had shown his happiness at rejoining the waking world by the way that he'd greeted Susan when she had come to see him the day after he'd been revived. He hadn't revealed what he had experienced while unconscious, but his refusal to talk about it, combined with the far-away look he got in his eyes suggested that it was more than a little uncomfortable.

The three Hogwarts students threw themselves into their training, Harry especially -he had three additional weeks that he needed to catch up on, and with their private ex-auror instructor they improved at an astronomical rate. Their homework for the entire summer had been little over an evening's worth, as they found little challenge in their school subjects what with their ever advancing knowledge and power. Hal had taken to casting everything wordlessly, which annoyed Daphne who was unable to do so. Harry hadn't seen the point in silent casting, other than the fact that it let you cast more spells more quickly, but even so he was almost as capable as Hal at the advanced feat.

Harry's birthday dawned, and the trio ventured into muggle London and met up with Susan and Neville. Neville had seemed quite put out by the fact that he was clearly a third wheel, twice, and had returned home much earlier than any of the others, but Harry understood where he was coming from. Harry had even felt pretty awkward living in the castle with Hal and, so often, Daphne, as they had seemed to not need him at all. Harry didn't know what Daphne's parents were like, but he assumed that they were at least aware of Hal and where Daphne spent a majority of her time. Harry didn't have any experience in the area outside of bad films that he'd glimpsed from the grating on his cupboard, and so he assumed that Daphne's family was more than a little bit unusual with the amount of trust and freedom that they gave their daughter.

Susan's family was a lot less trusting, but again that was understandable considering that most of them had been murdered by Voldemort during the last wizarding war. Harry squeezed the hand of the girl in question, earning a warm smile, and rejoined the conversation as they finished off their meal in a very expensive muggle restaurant that Hal had paid for. Not the meal. Hal had bought the entire restaurant a few weeks ago after falling in love with the food there. Harry had laughed hard when he'd found out about that, before going silent when he realised that he would be entirely able to do exactly the same thing if he wanted to. The oldest families on the wizarding world had obscene amounts of wealth, most of which had come from shrewd investments at some point in the last however-many-hundreds of years that the families had been active. The Potters and Selwyns were famously obscene in terms of money, and at the height of their economic power the Greengrass family could have literally bought the entirety of France as a second home and still have had some left over.

The quartet left the restaurant and ventured out into the wam evening air, taking a stroll down the south bank of the Thames and looking out over the skyline.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry embraced Sirius and said his goodbyes as they stood on platform nine and three quarters. A short distance away, Susan had finished saying goodbye to her aunt, who looked after her since her mother had been killed by Voldemort shortly before the end of the first wizarding war. His eyes found Daphne, kissing her mother on the cheek and embracing her father in farewell. They looked very much like their daughter, with Daphne's mother having the same long curly blonde hair, and her father possessing the bright blue eyes that Hal would swear could see into your soul.

They went towards their usual compartment, ignoring all that they came across on their way, and shut the door behind them, settling in for a long journey ahead of them. Harry still couldn't work out why magical students were forced to take a train of all things, from London of all places, in order to go to a magical school in Scotland. Regardless, Harry couldn't complain as Susan sat herself down next to him, entwining her fingers with his and settling into his side. He grinned as he realised that Hal and Daphne had been sitting like that on the train pretty much since second year, and he wondered how he hadn't noticed their relationship sooner.

Harry started when Cho knocked on the door, and waited for her to talk after Hal opened the door with his wand.

"Hi, I-I'm Cho, could I talk to Harry for a second?" she stuttered as she spoke, a far cry from the confident athletic girl that Harry and Hal had played quidditch against. He got up, sliding his wand into the holster on his wrist, and closed the door quietly behind him. He noticed that Hal did not reapply the privacy charms, and so would be able to hear every word they said.

"What did you need to ask, Cho?" said Harry, leaning against the doorframe. Cho hung her head, long black hair falling and obscuring her eyes.

"How did you deal with Ced dying? It's torn me up all summer and my owl couldn't find you." Harry gaped at her; he'd thought that she would ask him about Quidditch or something, not jump straight in with the death talk.

"When Hermione died, it was more similar of a situation for me. I know precisely how you feel, but I'm sorry. There's no easy way to 'get over it,' if that's what you want. The pain you feel now is the happiness you had before. That's the deal. This pain is what reminds us that we're human, so be glad that you're hurting now. It proved that you loved him then, and still now. As for me, even a year on, I'm reminded of my best friend every day, and it hurts every single time. Less and less as time goes on, but the fact that it hurts proves to me that she was real."

Harry pulled the girl, who was crying softly, into a hug before she joined the others back in the compartment. Neville shuffled up and Cho sat down next to him, and watched as the others told jokes, each one funnier and more obscene than the last, until even Cho was laughing as the trolley lady began her rounds.

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The opening feast passed without incident, except for a moment when the new defence against the dark arts teacher stood up and began to talk in an annoyingly simpering voice in the middle of Dumbledore's speech. In between the drivel, Hal detected the malevolent air of one sent as an imposter. He narrowed his eyes as he realised that Fudge had placed her here to keep an eye on Dumbledore, and likely had no clue about how to actually teach. Daphne caught his eye and smiled grimly, sending her derisive laugh into his head while she looked nothing but bored with the proceedings.

A similar story played out on the Gryffindor table, with Neville having to cover his snort of laughter as the toad-like teacher talked about her plans for the school. Most of the school looked dumbfounded, but the majority of the seventh years looked at her with incredulous expressions, perceiving a lack of any teaching whatsoever, and is such a crucial year.

Hal and Daphne stood, and having missed Slytherin prefect roles to Malfoy and Parkinson, saw the two of them lead the Slytherin first years towards the dungeons. Hal suspected that he would have to stop Malfoy from exploiting the first years in a similar way to how he had stopped the seventh years after the start of his second. Although, he suspected that the convincing would be done less with bribery this time, and more with a display of force. More Gryffindorish, but a whole lot cheaper.

Hal had not been able to ignore the older Slytherin's 'privileges,' as in his time he had been forced to correct more than a few older years who had tried to claim him as a kind of servant. Most of the girls had it worse, and as such their knowledge of defensive spells was usually far advanced over their non-slytherin counterparts. Hal had gone a long way in trying to eradicate what he saw as a disgusting violation of human dignity, but not all of the seeds of corruption had been dealt with, including their new prefects. Parkinson wasn't actively a problem, but she defended the current standings as it was 'how things worked.' Malfoy was certainly the current ringleader, and was doing his best to turn the Slytherin common room into a kind of death eater training camp.

He walked into the common room, drawing his wand as he passed through the facade of a stone wall, and went to stand behind Draco who was addressing the first years about the way in which the house was run. Draco made to dismiss them, but Hal placed a hand on his shoulder, causing the shorter boy to flinch away.

"You will find," Hal said in a dangerously quiet voice that nevertheless carried perfectly to each person in the room, "that here in Slytherin house we have a different way of doing things to the rest of the school. There is to be no exploitation of any Slytherin, for any reason, no exceptions. You will present a united front to the rest of the school; they hate us enough, don't give them a reason to pick us apart. Having said this, it must also be understood that the majority of people in other houses are nice enough if you give them the chance and a reason to be nice. I suggest that you try to make friends with at least one of each other house, even if it is just so that you can keep better tabs on the gossip." Hal smirked, but it changed to a scowl as he continued, "if any among you has a problem with an older Slytherin, you come to me. If you have a problem with one in your own year, Malfoy will deal with it. I will not tolerate any abuse of power, physical or otherwise, in this house any longer." Whispers rippled out across the room at his words, and he was saddened to see the joy that they sparked in the majority of the third and fourth years, which was around the time that certain individuals began to push their luck regarding the girls in the house. To his credit, Malfoy kept silent, calculating the ramifications of Hal's power move and seemingly sizing him up. Hal just turned on his heel and disappeared into his room, joined by Daphne moments later.

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Over the next few days, Hal had students timidly come to him with complaints about a mixed group of fifth, sixth, and seventh year Slytherins, all of whom ended up in the hospital wing the same day with painful but decidedly not life threatening injuries. The most peculiar part was that none of the victims would say who had harmed them, but Madam Pomfrey was immensely relieved that the worryingly high numbers of Slytherin girls frantically coming to her with clear signs of abuse or assault had dropped like a stone in the week since the opening feast. The healer usually saw about five or so each week with distressing symptoms or other injuries evident of a struggle, but after a range of Slytherin boys had stayed in the hospital wing with a wide variety of apparently accidental injuries the victims had stopped coming. She hoped that meant that the abuse had stopped, rather than that they were just no longer coming, but she had been carefully observing the Slytherin table at breakfasts, and fewer and fewer students had been using glamours to conceal their faces, fewer had limps, and there were many more smiles.

Hal was sat, eating wheat broomsticks at the Slytherin table, unconcerned about the happy smiles sent his way, and the murderous glares piercing him as he ate. Similarly, Daphne kept her air of indifference up regardless of the raw emotion displayed on the Slytherin table. She wasn't worried about Hal's safety, as she suspected that he could take on every single wannabe death eater at the table simultaneously and still emerge unscathed. She probably could too, considering how she had managed to successfully defend against easily one of the best duelists of the past three centuries in Bellatrix Lestrange, who had been crowned World duelling champion at the age of fifteen before her descent into the dark arts had properly begun. None of the other Slytherins even registered in terms of magical power compared to Harry, Hal, or herself. Even Neville who had been notorious for his poor magic in the younger years had soared to heights of power following nearly a year of the harsh training regime that the other three followed.

The first defence lesson proved to be even worse than Hal could have imagined, and mainly consisted of him being forced to read a book that was designed to be worse than useless in combat, and then going over course goals at the end of the lesson. Ron had ended up getting detention with Umbridge for speaking out of turn, but she had seemed somewhat put out by the fact that Harry hadn't risen to her baiting. As for Harry, he had seemed to grow away from Hal and Daphne over the first week. He didn't seem hostile to them, just effectively isolated himself from them. He still talked to Susan and Neville, but hadn't shown up to train with Hal and Daphne, which admittedly had led to one of their most productive practices ever.

Hal found himself sitting in a secluded corner of the library, writing an incredibly complex essay for potions along with Daphne and Neville.

"Hal, I was thinking," began Neville, "we're not going to learn anything with Umbridge this year, so why not get you and Harry to teach us? You're probably the best in the school at defence by this point, so you'd be able to do it." Hal waved his hand dismissively, but Daphne looked thoughtful.

"That could just work."

"Have you two lost your minds? I'm a Slytherin, who'd want to be taught by me?"

"I think you're underestimating how badly people here hate Umbridge. They'll learn from you, especially if Harry is teaching with you."

Hal huffed in annoyance, but accepted that he wouldn't convince them otherwise, however in the moments when he wasn't studying, training, or just spending time with Daphne he found himself subconsciously planning lessons around his and Harry's strengths. Neville had somehow managed to bring Harry on board with the idea, although it was likely more to do with Susan's enthusiasm for the idea than any argument that Neville had presented.

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Harry stood nervously in front of a small crowd of around fifty people, all gathered in the hog's head to hear what he had to say about their defence group. Behind him, Hal sat next to a softly crackling fire, having placed extensive privacy wards around them to avoid unwanted invasions of privacy. Hal stood and held up a finger to call for silence, which immediately descended over the assembled students.

"I'm sure you're aware of why we've gathered here today. Umbridge is a stain on the school, and we won't learn anything about defence under her teaching. Therefore we have decided to set up a group where we can learn both how to defend ourselves, and how to pass our exams." he made to continue, but was interrupted by Ron.

"Why should we learn anything from you? You're just a filthy snake, how do we know that you won't report us all to that bag when this little meeting is over. Besides, I came to hear what Harry has to say. How do we know you-know-who is actually back?" Harry shook his head sadly.

"I'm not going to talk about how it feels to fight Voldemort, out of respect for the dead. If you just came to listen to me talk about my exploits, leave now." nobody left, and Harry continued, "The point of this is not to teach you how to fight. Nor is it going to enable you to survive for definite. Cedric was a prodigy, and he was killed like it was nothing. If Voldemort wants you to die, you die. That being said, there are ways to lessen your risk. I would not be able to live with myself if there were people who ended up dead because I refused to teach them, so anyone who wants to learn should put their names on this sheet of parchment. You will receive an enchanted galleon which will display the date and time of the next meeting on it." Harry produced a sheet of paper and a quill, as well as a basket of galleons that were almost indistinguishable from the real thing. Every person present in the pub signed their name and took a galleon, even Ron, although he shot a dangerous glance at Hal and Daphne as he left. Hal put several galleons down on the countertop with a word of thanks to Aberforth, the bartender.

AN

Notes on Hal's fight. He was duelling to kill, they wanted him alive, hence why he was able to take on seven death eaters at once. Bellatrix plays with her food, otherwise she would have been able to kill both of them, although it wouldn't have been easy.

You may have noticed that i haven't painted Ron in a good light, that's deliberate. I usually like his character, especially the book-version, but this way allowed for in my opinion, better storytelling.

/AN


	7. Chapter 7

The room of requirement had expanded to nearly the size of the great hall, with a shelved section where many books on defence could be found, as well as an area perfect for duelling as well as for practicing spells. Filling the room were nearly seventy students, all of whom were looking up onto a slightly raised dais on which stood Harry, Hal, Daphne, and Neville.

"Right, I'm glad you all found the place alright, for our first lesson, we're going to be doing simpler spells, like a disarming charm, so that I can tell where you all are in terms of wandwork, aiming, and dodging." Harry spoke in a commanding tone, but the people gathered in the room were clearly unhappy about what they had been told.

"You mean, we're gonna be doing first-year spells?" shouted Ron incredulously, "Most of us have been able to do that since our first term here!"

"Then you shouldn't object to being asked to perform it in order to determine your talent with a wand," snapped Daphne, which caused the boy to open and shut his mouth like a fish.

"And what's this about dodging? Why would we need to dodge if we can just make a shield?" Hal looked down, and saw an irate sixth year towards the front of the crowd.

"Why risk yourself to a magical attack by producing a shield that can be broken or circumvented when you can just solve the problem by simply not being in the way?" Hal answered the question, but the boy scoffed.

"As if my shield could be broken."

Hal stepped down off of the stage, and took the boy by the elbow and led him to the duelling area.

"Produce your strongest shield." A meter-wide disk of shimmering light occupied the area between the two boys, before Hal slashed his wand, sending a blue beam through the shield, which shattered, and knocked the older boy to his feet. He got up, red faced, and blustered back to the rest of the crowd. Before long, they were spread out all around the room, disarming each other and attempting to dodge the red light. Harry, Hal, and Daphne went around, correcting shoddy wandwork, or poor aim. Slowly, the general skill demonstrated increased, with fewer errant spells throwing books off of bookshelves, and more people actually managing to relieve the other person of their wand.

Eventually, Harry called a stop to the practice, sending the students back to their dormitories in waves so as to avoid Filch catching any of them. Susan remained behind with Harry, and Hal followed Dahne back to the Slytherin common rooms, which had become a much more tense but less outright violent atmosphere since Hal had laid down his ultimatum. It was october the twelfth, meaning it was Hal's birthday, and Harry and Neville had already given him his gifts, but Daphne had been very evasive about it, stating that he would 'get the gift at the correct time.'

Hal followed Daphne into her room, which was not unusual behaviour, seeing as how they had been together for nearly two years by that point, in some sense of officiality. Hal sat down on a conjured chair, and watched as Daphne locked the door and applied her usual assortment of privacy charms. The girl turned and smirked at him, before she reached a hand into her bedside table and produced a bottle of firewhisky, along with a pair of glasses with a flourish.

"Happy birthday," she said through a smirk, and twisted the cap of the bottle to break the seal. She poured a generous measure into each glass, before she handed one to him and kicked off her shoes. "Good thing it's a friday, else we'd have to go to lessons with a hangover after finishing this thing!" Hal grinned at her as he drained his glass to match hers. There was no way they'd finish the huge bottle of strong liquor in a single night - was there?

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Hal slowly came to the realisation that he was, in fact, awake after spending a good half hour in a sort of doze. The more awake he decided he was, the worse he felt, but he couldn't return to sleep despite his best efforts. His head felt halfway between the aftermath of a hippogriff stampede and a weird sisters concert, with his sluggish brain throbbing in the corner of his skull. He suddenly became aware that he was rather warm, and that there were far too many legs in his bed for them to all be his. His eyes snapped open, and a groan escaped his mouth as his headache came into the forefront of his awareness, and he saw the back of a head of golden hair that was decidedly not his, as much as he liked the colour. Hal carefully made to extricate his arm from under Daphne's sleeping form, but despite his best efforts she shifted and woke up. She groaned in much the same way that he had, and Hal smirked as she put the pieces of the puzzle together. He could almost hear the cogs turning under her scalp.

"He-hey," he said, the attempt as being suave rather defeated by his perishingly dry throat.

"What happened?" Daphne responded, "why do I feel so awful? Surely we didn't drink the whole thing."

Hal looked around, his eyes skimming over the clothes scattered haphazardly all around the room, and landed on two glasses, with a bottle next to it. All three were empty. Daphne moved to sit up, drawing attention to the fact that neither of them were wearing anything, and she grabbed her wand, casting a time-telling spell and wincing as it informed them that it was half an hour after midday. Hal had a sudden feeling of panic, and he grabbed his own wand, causing it to recount the last few spells that he had cast, and sighing with relief as the soft pink glow of a contraceptive charm glowed around the room.

Hal swung his legs to the floor, resting his forehead on his palms as the room span around him. He shakily got to his feet and walked into the bathroom, noting the utter mess that the room was in, and relieved himself. He walked back into the main area, conjuring water into the two glasses, one of which he handed to Daphne, and the other he drained. Daphne helped him to find all of his clothes, and he dressed so that he could get to his room undisturbed.

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The first quidditch match of the year was a grudge match between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and as such it was one of the most highly anticipated and contested events for the entire year. Harry was by far the best seeker in the school, and Hal was a natural chaser, who chose the more maneuverable nimbus series over the faster firebolt and more budget oriented cleansweeps. Gryffindor had the better overall squad, with an incredible seeker, three good chasers, two preternatural beaters, and an alright goalkeeper, but Slytherin had Hal. He had been known to score game-winning numbers of goals on his own, even before you add in the passable framework that was built around him. It had gotten so ridiculous that Angelina had apparently instructed the Weasley twins to focus on taking him out, so that he might not be able to take over the game so drastically.

In fact, the school was almost split perfectly into the reds of Gryffindor and the greens of Slytherin, which went to show how the public opinion of the famously sneaky house had changed. Hal strode out over frozen grass, wearing the green robes of the Slytherin quidditch team with the silver trim that designated him as the captain. He shook the hand of Angelina, smirking at her as he saw the hard lines that she set her fact into.

Fifteen people shot up into the air as the balls were released, and immediately Hal grabbed the quaffle, dodged a bludger, and began to fly down the pitch. He managed to get to the hoops just after Ron got there, and as such was in no position to save the shot. Hal immediately flew back, taking a contact with Katie as they scuffled for positioning by the reset point for the Quaffle. Theodore Nott grabbed the red leather ball, and passed it to Hal, which resulted in another goal being scored against the house in red.

Play continued in such a manner, with Hal dominating the game in his usual manner, with Slytherin leading by a huge one-hundred point margin after just twenty brutal minutes of flying. Alacia was taken off of the pitch with a broken arm, and Ginny Weasley subbed on in her place as the girl was obviously incapable of continuing to fly. Even with a fresh flier, Slytherin continued to dominate the scoreline, as Hal pulled off an insane maneuver wherein he intercepted a close pass between chasers, and flew in a maddening corkscrew path around the rest of the obstacles, pushing his top-of-the-line broom to its absolute limit, and almost blacking out from the forces involved in such a move. He feigned left, before throwing the quaffle towards the right goal, where it soared past Ron's outstretched fingertips and into the goal.

A roar went up from the crowd, and Hal took his mind off of his own game and focused on his surroundings. Harry had just risen triumphantly from a dive, golden ball clutched in his fist, with Malfoy hovering a few feet away from his counterpart, a sullen look on his face as he brooded over the loss of the snitch once again to the clearly superior seeker. Hal looked at the scoreboard and grinned, as it read 'Gryffindor 230- Slytherin 240.' He let out a whoop as he landed on the turf below him, raising his arms into the air as the crowd slowly understood what had happened. Despite the apparent simultaneity of the events, Hal had put the quaffle through the hoop a hair of a second before Harry had caught the snitch, resulting in a win instead of a draw for the Slytherins.

Hal felt Harry's arm around his back, and a few cameras flashed from some of the people watching who wanted to enter a career in journalism after they left Hogwarts.

"Unlucky, mate." said Hal, through his grin.

"Nobody in my team can even comprehend what you just did, by the way. Katie reckons that you could play for England if you even thought about wanting to." Harry replied without even a trace of malice, as they both knew that either of them could still win the quidditch cup, depending on how hard they beat the other two houses.

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Somehow, the pictures taken by the students at the quidditch game had found their way into the Daily Prophet, which despite pressure from the government had been strong-armed into positivity by an anonymous businessman who had apparently bought up over fifty percent of the business, resulting in a slew of positive references to Harry, and many subtle or not so subtle hints that Voldemort had returned. This had led to the paper being banned from the school by the High Inquisitor, but that hadn't stopped any student from receiving it, as the Daily Prophet had a service where the paper could be delivered while disguised as something else, for precisely a reason such as this one.

Hal had ridden the high from his birthday and his quidditch game for a good few weeks, getting him through the rest of October and neatly into november without incident, which had carried him straight into Daphne's birthday, where he enthusiastically returned the favour. The number of defence association meetings had drastically increased, as the students seemed more enthusiastic than ever as they were able to see real, tangible improvement over the course of a few sessions. They had moved on to slightly less basic topics such as the various commonly used curses that were good for defence, as well as covering the majority of the OWL and NEWT syllabuses to prepare those years for their tests. All of the students were very excited to learn the more flashy and impressive magics, such as the patronus charm, but Harry had been adamant that they had to master the basics before they went on to the harder things.

Despite Umbridge's apparent obsession with catching Harry in the act of saying something that she could punish, Harry was relatively happy. He felt somewhat isolated from his Hal and Daphne due to their unashamed self sufficiency, but he was busy enough and had a developed enough support network that it didn't hurt him too badly. His relationship with Susan had dropped out of the interests of the rumour mill as it had been found to be a poor source of gossip due to the fact that the teens talked through issues in a sensible and calm manner _before_ they ran into shouting matches.

What had become apparent, however, was that Harry's temper lay a lot closer to the surface than it usually did, and it was not unknown for him to lose it with someone, but despite his famous duelling prowess it never came to blows. Harry's behaviour was disconcerting, but virtually harmless, and the majority of the student body had put it down to stress. Cho, on the other hand, had bounced from relationship to relationship, and she could often be found in the coffee shops of Hogsmeade on the frequent permitted weekends. She seemed to be happier, at least to anyone who didn't know her. Those who did know her saw that her constant string of boyfriends was an attempt to hide her internal issues that could only be healed by time, and they worried about her.

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By the time that christmas rolled around, both Gryffindor and Slytherin had stomped Hufflepuff, and as such the standings in the quidditch cup were still all to play for.

The night before they were due to return home, Harry found himself ripped from a pleasant dream about a happy hour spent with friends and thrust into a dark corridor, belly sliding on the tiled floor. Harry's vision seemed odd, and he felt that he could 'see' the chill of the floor. He flicked out his tongue, and became suddenly aware of a man with red hair slumped on the wall, half covered with an invisibility cloak, and snoring softly as he slept. The snake coiled up, preparing to strike at the man, when the man shifted and opened his eyes. The snake made to lunge at the man, and Harry yelled out in his mind, causing the snake to flinch and miss the mark. Arthur Weasley leapt to his feet, shooting a flurry of cutting curses at the snake as it lunged again for him, but the snake inexplicably missed once again.

Gore began to spatter on the floor as scales were ripped from the back of the snake and gouges appeared in the flesh underneath, causing the movement of the enormous serpent to be inhibited by the slippery floor. The snake lunged again, hitting the red haired man's arm, but was impacted by a brutal cutting curse as the fangs clamped down and pumped venom into the twin wounds in the man's arm. The body of the snake fell backwards, leaking a black tarry substance as it dissolved, but blood began to freely flow from the man, who slumped back against the wall with a pained gurgle, with the venom in his body breaking down the soft tissues and muscles at an alarming rate.

Harry shot to his feet, drenched in sweat, and grabbed his cloak and wand before rushing out of the door. He took off at a sprint, heading towards the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

"Sugar Quills!" The gargoyle slid aside, and Harry took the spiral stairs two at a time in his hurry to reach the top. He heard voices within which immediately went silent when he knocked loudly on the door. Harry opened the door, and pulled the cloak off of him, which caused Dumbledore to raise an eyebrow.

"Sir, Mr Weasley's injured, an enormous snake bit him and although he managed to kill the beast he's definitely going to die unless you can get to him." Dumbledore tilted his head at Harry, before he raised his wand and sent forth a silver phoenix from the tip of it, which vanished seconds later, presumably to take a message to somebody.

"I presume you had a vision of the attack." Dumbledore stated, without really asking, "This is a worrying development, but not one that I'd say was overly important in the grand scheme of things. Harry's jaw dropped.

"You're just going to let him die?"

Dumbledore stiffened, before replying in a terse voice.

"Arthur knew what he signed on for. From your account, he had fallen asleep in his duties and thus his fate is his own fault. Additionally, it would not do to have the minister questioning why i knew of these illegal activities taking place, and he may use the opportunity to discredit me further, or to simply have me arrested. This is for the greater good, I wouldn't expect you to understand."

Harry stood and made to leave, but he found the door locked when he tried the handle.

"Now, Harry, you didn't seriously think that you could keep these memories, did you? It would be very bad for me if this was to be made public knowledge, and so I'm afraid I'm going to have to obliviate you." Harry reached for his wand, but saw it already in Dumbledore's hand, before he slumped to the floor unconscious. Dumbledore leant over the boy, forcing his way into his mind and voyeuristically watching Harry's memories of his more intimate moments with Susan. The old man then cleared the memories of his last few hours, and in his arrogance he forgot to check again whether the flow of time would make sense from Harry's point of view as he apparated silently with Harry into the Gryffindor dormitory and replaced the boy into his bed. Harry's wand was then replaced onto his bedside table, and it glowed softly for a second as the new tracking charm activated.

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Harry was seated in their usual compartment, arms wrapped around Susan as they sped back towards London on the scarlet steam engine, practically seated on one another, or at least not easily separable.

"Harry, did you ask Sirius when it was okay for me to come over?" she whispered up to him, and his eyes widened in panic.

"I-I can't remember. Actually, now that I think about it I don't remember anything after dinner yesterday." Hal looked up sharply at his words.

"Do you mind if I take a look?" he asked, and Harry nodded slowly.

Harry felt Hal's presence in his mind, and he instinctively cleared his mind in response to the sensation, but Harry couldn't help but bring up images. He knew from experience that this recalling effect was Hal's presence in his mind, and a few seconds later the presence retreated. Hal frowned, "You've definitely had some modification to your memory. There's not even a remnant or fragment of the memory, nor is it merely sectioned off. Whoever did it clearly knew what they were doing, which actually helps us." Daphne snapped her fingers.

"It basically reduces the suspects down to Dumbledore, Snape, or Flitwick, but you haven't seen Flitwick since wednesday's lesson, and somehow I don't see you going to Snape for help after hours. It's got to be Dumbledore, which means there's not too much we can do about it, as there's a reason he is famed as the only wizard Voldemort ever feared."

Harry's coat whipped around him in the wind as he said his goodbye to Susan on the platform in a rather physical manner, only stopping when Sirius cleared his throat beside the pair who broke away from each other looking dutifully sheepish at the interruption. Susan walked over to a tall and severe looking woman, giving her a quick hug as the older woman's mouth quirked up in a smile. Sirius put an arm around Harry's shoulder, guiding him a short distance away before the pair of them disappeared in a swirl of fabric. They reappeared, and the first thing that Harry noticed was the smell of pine and then the breathtaking mountain scenery.

"Like it, pup?" asked Sirius with a grin, "Here's where we'll be spending Christmas, along with Susan and Madam Bones when they arrive tomorrow." Sirius laughed at how Harry's face lit up at his words, before he led him into the cosy wooden cabin.

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OWLs crept up not-so-subtly on the fifth years as the months slipped away, but despite the enormous drains on their free time every single student made every effort to turn up to DA meetings, as they knew that the meetings were all that lay between them and a failed OWL, as well as the simple fact that without the meetings almost all of the students would be left for dead in a fight. Now, however, the majority stood a chance at escaping, even if they were unlikely to be able to take down fully qualified wizards.

What they did stand more than a chance against was the dementors, as Harry had just finished teaching them the patronus charm, and to his amazement a majority of the members were eventually able to cast a full corporeal patronus. Suddenly the door to the hall opened and Hal's elf, Pinky, ran in and whispered to Hal, who nodded grimly.

"Umbridge knows. Disillusion yourselves, I'll secure the room against her, then leave through the alternate passages in ones and twos. Harry, you must not be caught, or she'll use it to gain power."

The students vanished in place, or rather blended in to their backgrounds before leaving through a small alternate doorway as a blast rattled the door. The hinges of the door to the room of requirement cracked and the left door swung inwards, admitting several Slytherin students who attempted to grab Hal and Harry, but they shook off their assailants and calmly walked towards the door where the toad clad in pink stood, framed by the light streaming in from the corridor. The parchment curled into ashes behind them as the short professor bounced down the corridors towards the headmaster's office.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow as Harry strode in, followed closely by Hal, but he said nothing. The minister for magic was also present, and his jaw dropped when he saw Hal stride in and lean against a bookshelf which held the sorting hat alongside a series of ancient tomes.

"Well, I think we've got more than enough evidence to arrest you, Dumbledore, as well as expelling these two troublemakers," said the minister in a voice that suggested the early coming of roughly five christmases all in one go.

"Well, I think that you'll find, minister…" began both Dumbledore and Hal simultaneously. Dumbledore raised a hand as if to suggest the Hal should continue, and although he looked taken aback by it he took it in his stride.

"I think you're forgetting, _minister_ ," Hal continued in a dangerously soft voice, "that you owe the Selwyn family at least one favour. Far be it from me to reveal some of your more - sensitive secrets." The minister swallowed nervously, and Harry couldn't help but wonder about what precisely Hal knew.

"O-of course, my apologies. Dumbledore is the only one we have an issue with here."

"Now, minister, I feel you may be labouring under the delusion that I will be coming quietly." said Dumbledore, before a wave of heat rushed over the room, blowing the people into the walls as Dumbledore vanished in a flash of flame. The minister shakily got to his feet, helping his undersecretary to her feet as he looked around the ruined office, which was decidedly Dumbledore free.

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Harry slumped down in his normal seat in the library, grinning as he had just finished his final exam, history of magic. Although he felt that he had done terribly with the exam, he felt confident in his performances in all of the other subjects. Susan practically skipped into the library, and threw herself into him, earning a glare from Madam Prince, the librarian. Harry closed his eyes, rubbing his temples to ward off the headache that had been buzzing behind his eyes since the morning, but as soon as they shut, a vision filled his eyes.

"You're going to have to kill me, then," said Sirius as he kneeled before Voldemort, near-unrecognisable as his features were ragged and maimed. It seemed that Voldemort had tired of the cruciatus curse and had resorted to more traditional torture methods.

"Well then, Sirius, we will have to wait until you are prepared to do what your lord wishes for you." Sirius began to scream as the handsome man once again began to torture him.

Harry's eyes shot open as he gasped for air. Susan was facing him with a look of concern on her face. Harry leapt to his feet and took off at a run towards the Gryffindor common room, followed closely by Susan who wore a supremely confused look on her face. Harry opened the portrait, and leapt into the common room, taking the stairs to his dormitory three at a time. Susan waited for him to return, and hopefully to explain somewhat. He came back down the stairs with a mirror in his hand, while he spoke Sirius' name into it. Suddenly he swore and cancelled the spell, returning the mirror to its normal reflective state.

"Voldemort has Sirius in the department of mysteries. When the mirror activated, all I could hear was Sirius screaming in pain. I'm going to get him." Harry was striding towards the main hall as he spoke in a hushed tone.

"Like hell you are, Potter," said Hal, standing in front of them with folded arms, "I'm coming too, I can't trust you to not die on your own."

"I'm coming too," said Daphne, followed up by a similar affirmative response from Neville. Susan shook her head.

"There's no way I'm coming. If voldemort is really there then I'm going to get Snape, he'd know what to do." Harry bowed his head, before he gave her a quick kiss and turned back towards the huge doorway.

The four of them ran towards the forest, hoping to get away from the wards and apparate to the Ministry, when Luna who was feeding thestrals by the treeline called out to them.

"You're going to need more help if you want to actually take Voldemort down." They had gotten used to her incredible intuition over the course of their DA meetings, and Neville especially had grown close to the girl, who had a natural talent for combat underpinned by an incredibly unusual fighting style that enabled her to defeat most opponents before they could adapt to it. She joined them in their run past the warding around Hogwarts, and grabbed onto Hal's arm along with the others as they prepared to apparate.

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The atrium of the ministry of magic was closed for the day, and almost deserted. The immediacy of magical travel meant that people generally signed off at around half-five or six, and the way in which magic enabled them to work more efficiently than muggles were capable of. This led to the five of them being able to run uninterrupted through the deserted hall, passing the unusual fountain and the desk where they would generally have to register their wands.

They piled into one of the darkened lifts, which took off at a disconcerting pace in a lateral manner before shooting downwards towards the department of mysteries, where Harry had seen Voldemort torturing Sirius. They stepped out into the corridor lit with ethereal blue lights and hurried past heavy dark wooden doors that led to the courtrooms on either side of the corridor, and towards the one with a golden inlay that Harry knew led to the department of mysteries proper. The five of them had their wands out, and warily stepped over the threshold of the door, into a room whose walls began to spin around them such that the blue light of the torches became lines burned into their retinas due to the pace that the room span at. Harry tried a door, which led to a room filled with ticking clocks, except for the fact that they all ticked at different rates, and some of the hands on the clocks went backwards. A cabinet filled with time-turners stood next to a bell jar with an egg that hatched and grew into a hummingbird, which then shrank and encased itself within the pale blue shell of the egg.

They moved into the next room, where a stone pillar stood, carved with glowing blue runes. A humming noise was all that could be heard in the room, even when one of the five spoke up to ask about it. A door opposite them led into an amphitheatre-like room, with a raised stone platform upon which stood an archway of black marble, with a silk veil blowing mysteriously in a non-existent breeze. Deep trenches were gouged into the floor of the platform, and evidence of a fierce spellfight could be seen, although whether it had happened five minutes ago or five hundred years ago could not be told.

Harry led them through a door to their right according to his instincts, and before them lay a cavernous room filled from top to bottom with shelves, upon which lay countless glowing blue crystal balls. The room was gargantuan, and despite the fact that the balls glowed they couldn't see how far up the small crystal spheres went.

"Row ninety seven. Keep your wands ready."

The five of them hurried past innumerable prophesies, some that were, some that are, some that will be, and some that may never come to pass, rushing towards the small golden number ninety seven. Eventually they came upon it, and found Sirius lying in a pool of his own blood, breathing weakly. He coughed when he saw the five of them.

"J-James?" he asked weakly, "you shouldn't have come, you know he'll use you to get it. And you, Chiron. You should have known better than to rush into this fool's errand." Sirius stared at Hal as he spoke, and Daphne shivered.

"Harry, this one has your name on it." said Neville, indicating a small glass orb with his wand. Harry stood up from his godfather's form, and took the ball from the shelf, and a voice rang out behind them.

"Very good, now turn slowly and give it to me."

Death eaters in their black robes and silver masks appeared from the shadows between shelves, with wands from all angles pointing at the five of them.

"Take a single step towards me and I smash it." Harry's voice rang out in the otherwise silent room, and along with Hal, Neville, and Daphne they formed up around Luna who was by far the weakest combatant of all of them.

"He knows how to play!" cackled a feminine voice from the darkness.

"Bellatrix, it's been a long time. I wonder if I'll beat you this time?" Hal couldn't help but grin as he spoke. Life and death situations gave him an adrenaline rush, and he had found it next to impossible to find a fair duel recently, given how much more powerful he was than most of his peers.

"Well, Selwyn, if you just hand over the prophecy then we can find out, I promise that I'll give you a chance after I kill all of your little friends."

"You w-won't be killing anyone today!" Neville shouted with false bravado.

"Ah! Longbottom, isn't it? I will take great pleasure in completing the set, and killing you as I did your parents."

Daphne nudged the two boys to her sides to get their attention as the others fought verbally with the death eaters, and waited ten seconds before she shot a blasting curse into the death eaters in front of her. She heard the others copy her, and she grabbed Luna by the hand and took off at a sprint towards the exit. From the sounds of things, three of the curses had impacted death eaters, but one had been deflected and had ricocheted into one of the tall shelves. A flash of green light shone from behind her, and she risked a glance back, seeing Sirius's body lie still as the silvery orbs fell to the ground and shattered around his body.

They ran out into the room with the veil, followed by streams of black smoke from which materialised death eaters. They were surrounded, and as they were standing on the raised platform they were almost certainly done for as they had little to no cover from the ring of dark wizards facing them from the arrayed seating area. One of the death eaters stepped forward, and waved his wand to dispel his mask, revealing the face of Lucius Malfoy. He mockingly applauded them.

"Well done, you killed three death eaters. Now you will all certainly die here, as there is no defence against us. All that is preventing your death right now is that prophesy, so hand it over."

"Telling us that you will kill us if we give you the prophecy is a great way to get us to give you the prophecy." said Luna from her position leaning against the arch of stone.

Suddenly, cracks around them could be heard, and various aurors appeared around the room and engaged the death eaters in combat. Harry and his friends dived for cover as Bellatrix appeared on the platform, shooting a jet of pink flames at Luna, who dived to avoid it, but then was hit by a red beam, leaving her shrieking in pain on the floor. Daphne became preoccupied by another death eater, and broke off from the larger fight to focus on her own safety. Harry, Hal, and Neville had duelled Bellatrix to a standstill, and the witch was no longer holding anything back as she fought to stay alive.

A multicoloured beam impacted Neville in the chest, knocking him back and causing him to stumble, before Bellatrix followed up with a blue jet, which threw the boy backwards, causing him to pass through the veil. The battle seemed to fade away as the life within the teenager faded too, and Bellatrix let out a cackle before she turned and sprinted out of the veil room with Harry and Hal hot on her trail. Bellatrix's lift doors closed just as the two boys came into view, and they piled into the next one and followed her up.

"Longbottom's dead! Longbottom's dead! _Are you coming to get me?_ "

" _Crucio!_ " shouted Harry, causing the woman to fall to the floor, but she quickly got to her feet.

"You've got to mean it, Potter. Let me demonstrate. _Crucio!_ " Harry screamed in agony as his blood boiled and his bones fragmented, and he writhed on the floor in his despair. The curse lifted as Hal fired a grey spell from his wand that lazily wound its way across the open space between the two. Bellatrix barely managed to dodge the spell, and her eyes reflected her shock that such a deadly spell could be used by a student.

Hal ran away from Harry, into the open space within the atrium so as to separate the unconscious teenager from any rogue spells that could hit him. Bellatrix followed him, transfiguring a pebble on the floor into a spray of molten metal, which Hal calmly cooled with his wand before dodging out of its way. He returned with a flurry of various colours that had to be dodged due to the raw power behind them. Bellatrix flourished her wand, and Harry deflected the abnormally fast spell that ensued, ripping a hole in the huge banner that was behind him.

Hal responded with a jet of flame that twisted and formed into dangerous magical creatures, which leaped towards the witch and attempted to devour her. Bellatrix was forced to abandon her attack in order to prevent her death at the talons of the fiendfyre. As she dispelled it, Hal's cutting curse ripped a gash in her arm, and she hissed as her off-hand became useless, hanging down at her side as the blood flowed freely from it. Bellatrix gasped as she realised that the wound was one that could very easily kill her, due to the fact that the specific cutting curse used prevented the clotting of blood. She would bleed out if she did not manage to escape from the fight.

She shrieked as she shot spell after spell at her opponent, but he calmly avoided them all with perfect movement that appeared almost mechanical. The teen's eyes were glowing with a purple light that screamed of raw magical power unleashed, something she had only seen three times before, all of which were when her master duelled Dumbledore, although Riddle's magic had been red in hue.

Realising the futility of her efforts, she tried to blind him in order to escape from the combat, but as she tried to twist into the air to vanish she felt his magic pushing down on her, preventing her from leaving. At the same time, she felt the sensation of a hook ripping through her flesh, and moaned in pain as her leg detached from the rest of her body. She fell to the floor, and Hal glided over to her, floating about an inch from the ground. He touched her wand, which shattered before her eyes, and leaned in towards the defenceless woman.

"This is for Sirius."

The bones in her arm shattered, pulping the muscle in her forearm.

"This is for Harry."

The skin from her leg detached from the rest of her, and the muscle underneath twisted and contorted, extracting a pained whimper from the woman.

"This is for Neville."

Hal pushed into her mind, batting aside her occlumency defences and leaving behind every memory of pain that he had, with none of the release or relief that came after. The woman screamed as hell itself played out in her mind for what seemed like an eternity. Finally it was lifted, and she sobbed in relief.

"This is for mercy."

A jet of green lit the boy's features from below, contrasting with the purple glow that stained his sclera violet with its light.

"Well, well, it looks like I may have competition." a high, cold voice spoke from ahead, revealing the presence of Voldemort leaning against a ruined pillar in the middle of the atrium. "How were you, a mere boy, able to take down one of the greatest and most feared fighters to have ever lived?" his tone sounded curious, confident in his power over the teenager that floated before him.

"I was more powerful. She was likely the better duelist, but I had power behind my magic that she could not hope to match. If she was much better, she would have merely outclassed me in terms of skill, but as it is the power difference was more than enough for me to win this one."

Suddenly Dumbledore appeared in the scene as well, taking into account the carnage in the atrium, and seeing the teenager floating before the Dark Lord with glowing eyes and conversing calmly. He cleared his throat, and Voldemort straightened.

"Well, boy, we will continue this conversation another time. I believe that I have a prior engagement." he turned to face Dumbledore, who held his wand raised at Voldemort. Hal stepped back onto the ground and walked over to Harry's prone body, and turned him face up. He knew that he would be in agony when he awoke, so he stunned him to prevent him from waking up and experiencing the pain unnecessarily.

He turned back to watch the two formidable combatants in an incredibly fast paced duel, well aware he was watching the current pinnacle of magical ability. Both men were near the limit of magic that could be safely channeled through a wand, and it showed.

Dumbledore's shield rang out like a gong each time a spell struck it, and even the green light of the killing curse failed to penetrate the shield. Voldemort had one of his own, and as soon as he stopped casting, Dumbledore whipped his wand around with a jet of flame wrapping around the Dark Lord, but the flame turned to flesh and scales as it was transfigured into a snake. The implausibly large serpent turned and hissed at Dumbledore, and Voldemort vanished in a cloud of smoke, appearing in the air above Dumbledore with eyes glowing bright red.

The snake attacked at the same time as a jet of green left Voldemort's wand, but Dumbledore deflected the light from the tip of his wand and redirected it into the snake, which fell to the floor and crumbled into ashes as the magic that formed it was ripped away. The water rose up and formed around Voldemort in a ball, before being flung away as the handsome man rose to his feet. A second of silence passed between the two men, before Riddle screamed and threw his arms out wide, shattering every piece of glass in the atrium, which gathered into a cloud of razors and flew at Dumbledore, who merely waved his wand and turned the glass into dust.

Cracks and pops began to sound around them, and Fudge along with almost the entire auror department arrived in the atrium. Voldemort sneered at Dumbledore and Hal, before he turned on the spot and ripped casually through the anti-apparation wards that covered the atrium.

"H-he's back!" stuttered Fudge.

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Harry stood on the precipice of a cliff, watching the sea crash into the base of it with angry thundering. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he stood straight, but tears flowed freely down his face. Two years. That was how long he had had a family for. A hand touched his shoulder, and he didn't have to look to know it was Susan's. Since the events of the department of mysteries she hadn't left his side, something begrudgingly accepted by Dumbledore as he explained the prophecy to Harry in his office, leading the teenager to rage and ruin the room with accidental magic. Dumbledore had at least looked somewhat guilty, but knowledge of guilt didn't excuse his wrongdoing. Harry should have been told about the prophecy as soon as he had been able to comprehend, at the latest he should have been told after Voldemort's return. Harry should never have been sent to the Dursley's, but at least it'd had the effect of making Harry acknowledge his skill and blessings when they eventually came.

As it was, Harry was incapable of dealing with death, and had been left broken by his only positive link to his parents being ripped from him so cruelly. He blamed Dumbledore for that too, as he had placed Sirius on guard duty despite knowing full well that he of all people was most at risk due to his close connection to Harry.

Neville's grandmother had broken upon hearing of his death, and was currently in St Mungo's for symptoms that nobody could figure out. Dumbledore theorised that she had simply stopped caring for life after the death of her only sane link to her children, and Harry placed the blame for his friend's death firmly at his own feet, in the same way as he blamed himself for Hermione's death. Luna had been found tortured into insanity in a corner of the hall of prophecy, with signs of assault that made Harry burn with rage as he thought about it. The healers had been saddened at her condition, but remained hopeful that she would recover as she had learned to talk once again, but seemed understandably unwilling to do anything more than talk. The trauma of her experiences seemed to have caused her to regress into a toddler-like state, a fact that had caused her father to weep furious and powerless tears of anger and frustration.

As for Hal, he had received an order of Merlin for killing Bellatrix, who was widely considered to be the fifth most dangerous dark sorcerer of all time, after Morgana, Voldemort, Grindelwald, and Herpo the foul. He blamed himself for different reasons to Harry, in that he felt that he should have protected Neville, but was incapable. He and Daphne had escaped relatively unharmed, but the mental effects of combat would remain with them for a long time. Daphne's father had been furious, but more directed towards the death eaters and the ministry's incompetence than at Harry, and had proposed a motion of no confidence in Fudge, which had passed unanimously. He had then been elected as minister for magic, and immediately announced Voldemort's return publicly, putting into place stringent security measures against attacks, and tried to safeguard people, but was suffering from the strain put upon wartime leaders.

The lestranges had been wiped out, with Rudolphus dying in the hall of prophecy, and Bellatrix dying at Hal's hand, and so the fortune and other contents of the vault had passed to Harry, who had also inherited the Black fortune and estate.

Recovery would take time, which was unfortunate considering that time was the thing they had the least of.

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AN

Wow, so I didn't expect this to go how it did, but once I started writing it seemed natural to have the consequences of combat be more severe than the books would have you believe. I kept Dumbledore and Voldemort's duel fairly faithful to the film/book version, but I feel that I have raised the power of Voldemort somewhat, to keep him as being stronger than Harry (and Hal.)

More people would have died if the book was realistic, and I think this is a decent compromise between George RR Martin and JK Rowling. Having said that, I don't want this to turn into an 'everything goes to hell' fic, just as I didn't want it turning into a 'Harry saves everyone' fic.

/AN


	8. Chapter 8

Voldemort was seated at the head of a long wooden table, around which were gathered the tatters of his forces. Recruitment amongst the young Hogwarts graduates had been worse than abysmal, something that Voldemort had long relied upon to keep his main strike force at full strength. As it was, he was relying heavily on Durmstrang students who had a propensity to do evil more so than the Hogwarts students did; something that Lord Voldemort had long since resigned to use to its full capacity. On his immediate left sat Rookwood, the finest mind among the death eaters and a talented duellist too, and on his left was Dolohov, a man who revelled in carnage and could always be found in the midst of a fight, but unscathed.

Voldemort drummed his nails impatiently on the polished wooden surface, waiting for the last combatants to return from their most recent assault on ministry targets. None of his followers dared to make a sound as, with the loss of his most fanatically loyal and dangerous follower, he was prone to outbursts of brutality at the slightest provocation. The scene was lit from a dingy lamp hanging overhead, as well as the shimmering red glow of Voldemort's eyes, which his followers would say evidenced his power, but it could be more accurately described as how close his magic was to the surface at a given moment.

The door closed with a soft click, and Voldemort turned his eyes upwards to see Snape dragging Umbridge into the room, flanked by the Carrow twins, and followed by Greyback, who had a bloodstained mouth despite the fact that the moon had yet to wax, as well as three other masked death eaters. Snape shoved his prisoner forwards, silent as she stumbled into the room, and suspended her by her ankle above the table, where she hung, rotating slowly.

Voldemort's face contorted into a sneer at the sight of her, and he lifted his wand and placed her briefly under the cruciatus curse, causing the woman to scream into the gag.

"Well, at least you have been more successful than Travers here, I presume you caused adequate damage to the ministry?" Snape nodded, as they had ruined nearly half of the misuse of magic office. Their entire plan had been to capture Umbridge and retrieve ministry secrets from her, as she had been effectively the second in command for almost a decade.

Draco turned his eyes away from the pitiful woman who succumbed almost immediately to the imperius curse, and began to spill secrets as fast as her wide mouth would allow her, unaware of the fact that she was merely hastening her own death. He rose as Voldemort had become preoccupied with his interrogation of Umbridge, and went to find his mother.

Draco entered the room, rushing over to his mother and wrapping her in a tight hug as a sob escaped the boy. Narcissa merely returned the hug, knowing full well that her child knew how much trouble he had gotten himself into when he invited Voldemort into their house, and also aware of the near impossible task that Voldemort had given to him.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry lit the tip of his wand as he followed Dumbledore into a muggle house which looked to have been the site of a vicious attack. Dumbledore halted in the corridor, looking around at the gashes in the tasteful wallpaper before heading into a sitting room, where it looked like the epicenter of the carnage could be located. Harry frowned as he looked around the room, taking note of the ruined piano and the torn carpet that was ripped a little too uniformly, as opposed to how a duel with wayward spells would tear such a carpet. Harry turned his attention to the blood sprayed over the walls and ceiling, seeing how it dripped in an inhuman way. Surely, he reasoned, if the blood was fresh enough to drip then there would be evidence of recent living, or a body or something.

As such, his eyes were drawn to the only unharmed piece of furniture in the room, an odd striped armchair sitting innocuously in the back corner of the room, next to the shattered window.

" _Finite!_ "

A portly and balding man with pure white hair was suddenly crouched where the armchair had been moments before, wearing pyjamas that were the same pattern as the chair had been. Dumbledore smiled at Harry as the man got to his feet.

"Merlin's beard, Dumbledore, you didn't need to bring an auror along with you!" Harry grinned before he responded.

"Actually I'm still a student, and if you want to hide better next time then I would suggest making the tears in the wallpaper and the carpet more irregular, as well as leaving the piano in a less destroyed state. Death eaters are not going to waste time wrecking an instrument if they have a job to do." The man's eyes widened at his words, and Dumbledore gave a small chuckle. The three of them busied themselves with fixing the room as they spoke, with Slughorn carefully scraping the dragon's blood off of the walls and ceiling to be reused as it was a very expensive fluid.

"Horace, let me introduce you to Harry Potter; Harry, this is Horace Slughorn, an old friend of mine."

"I know why you're here Albus, but the answer is still no. Despite all of the supposed benefits of your madhouse of a school I quite enjoy retirement." Dumbledore smiled weakly and excused himself to the bathroom, leaving Harry in a room with Slughorn who was eyeing him suspiciously.

"Look, I know why Dumbledore brought me. My mum wrote about you in her journal; she said you like to gather those most likely to become famous or influential in the future to yourself. I'm assuming he wants me to let you 'collect' me, like those pictures on the mantelpiece, and if I'm honest I'd love to get to know someone that my mum talked about so fondly, I'm sure you have loads of stories about her and my dad." Slughorn swallowed at his words, before bursting out in a deep laugh at Harry's perceptiveness.

"Well, first thing I can tell you is that your mother was incredibly perceptive, like you're proving to be. I never managed to get anything past her, despite the fact that she was possibly the greatest potions student I've ever had the privilege of teaching." Harry grinned as Slughorn opened up a box of crystallised fruit and fished around in the powdered sugar for a chunk of pineapple.

Dumbledore presently returned from the toilet and smiled to himself as he saw Slughorn engaged in conversation with Harry. He cleared his throat lightly to get Harry's attention and announced that they had to go. Just as they were leaving the house they heard a shout from behind them.

"Okay! I'll do it! But I'll want a raise!"

Harry caught Dumbledore's grin and hid his own smirk.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry shifted under the silken covers that lay over his body, and cracked open his eyes to watch the dust motes lazily circling in the morning sunlight that filtered in through the wide windows of the newly rebuilt Selwyn manor that had become something of a second home to him after Sirius had died. Harry sat up slowly, noticing the sleeping form of Susan curled up by his side as he slipped silently from the bed and slid his feet into a pair of slippers to ward off the chill of the marble floors. Harry pulled on a dressing gown and left the room, enjoying the absolute silence that reigned through the house since all of the other occupants were asleep other than the house elves which prided themselves on silence.

Harry was joined shortly at the breakfast table by Hal, whose hair was damp from his shower, who got himself a bowl of cereal and some toast before sitting down. A pot of tea appeared before him, and he poured the both of them a cup of it, wrapping his hands around the steaming mug and sighing softly. The door opened, and Daphne glided into the room, joining them at the table and accepting the offered tea with a grateful smile. Harry grinned at her messy hair and the row of small bruises along her neck exposed by the t-shirt that she'd slept in, but he wisely refrained from commenting as she was a famously bad morning person.

Hal turned at a soft tap on the window, and opened it to reveal four owls which dropped letters from their beaks and turned to fly back out of the window that they had come from.

"Heh, the OWLs arrived." he quipped, before Daphne's eyes widened and she rushed over and tore open her letter. She let out a whoop, and wrapped Hal in a crushing embrace, before showing him the letter.

"Nine 'outstandings', and an 'exceeds expectations', not bad! Oh, and the charms Special Award, nice one!"

Hal looked at his own letter and a smile slid across his face as he read the writing printed in neat lines across the parchment.

Harold Polaris Selwyn

Advanced Arithmancy Studies: O (Special award)

Astronomy: O

Arithmancy: O (Special award)

Ancient Runes: O

Charms: O

Defence Against the Dark Arts: O

Herbology: O

History of Magic: E

Potions: O (Special award)

Transfiguration: O

Hal smiled as he looked up.

"It's alright, I guess." Daphne looked across and shrieked as she read his results, hitting him playfully on the arm.

"Yeah, because three best-in-country awards is just alright!"

"How'd you do, Harry?"

"I got eight 'outstandings' and an 'acceptable', but seriously screw history of magic. I got the special award for defence."

At that moment, Susan appeared from behind Harry, and opened her own letter and grinned.

"Well I guess Daphne's insane revision schedule payed off; I got seven O's, an E, and an A. Very employable and well above average, so I'm pleased." Harry interrupted her relieved babbling by pressing a kiss to her lips, and she snagged a piece of his toast as they broke apart.

Harry had also been made Quidditch captain of Gryffindor, with Hal being appointed as his counterpart in Slytherin. There was also a note from Dumbledore which informed Harry that he would be receiving special tuition throughout the year and so they would be seeing each other 'several times per fortnight'. The group wondered aloud about the kinds of things that Dumbledore could be teaching the group after he recounted the events of the previous night to them. Hal had sat up and looked incredibly excited after Dumbledore's injury had been explained, and he pulled a notebook from the implausibly small pouch that hung around his neck, and crossed off a line with a grin.

"I looked further into it, and it appears that attempting to make any more than eleven horcruxes would spread the soul too thin. If I'm right that Voldemort made six horcruxes then there's three that we need to still get."

"Right, the snake, then probably two founder's artefacts? Gryffindor's sword, Hufflepuff's cup, and Ravenclaw's crown?" Daphne suggested with a snap of her fingers.

"Auntie said that a snake body was found tainted with dark magic next to Arthur Weasley's corpse. Perhaps that was Nagini? I can't recall auntie mentioning the snake since they were found and it used to appear everywhere." Hal frowned and crossed another line off of the notebook.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

September began with a driving sheet of rain that punished the landscape, shrouding the countryside in darkness as Hal and Harry prepared to take a portkey to King's Cross to catch the Hogwarts express. The others were making their own way up to the station, and would meet them there, not that it mattered too much as they would be travelling in the same compartment regardless of how they got to the station.

Stony silence blanketed their usual compartment as the four of them sat in the space once occupied by other people; other voices that had since fallen silent. Harry in particular sat and brooded with his chin resting on his fist, while Hal and Daphne collaborated in their silent fashion on a project that Hal had started just after the beginning of the summer. Harry had been incapable of making heads or tails of the mess of equations and formulae, despite having achieved an outstanding in arithmancy, but Hal appeared to know what he was doing. Susan entertained herself by pre-reading the transfiguration materiel for the NEWT, as was supposedly expected by the professors at NEWT level.

So depressive was the mood that it actually came as a relief when the red haired menace stuck his head through the door.

"I just wanted to say that I'm surprised that you snakes showed your faces around here after getting Neville killed. You want to watch your back." Hal looked up at him and clenched his jaw before he replied in a measured and even voice that spoke of barely restrained anger.

"If you were aware of the events of that night then you'd know that Bellatrix Lestrange died at my hand, and so to threaten me would be said by most to be suicide. Couple that with the fact that you insulted one of my oldest friends and you have yourself a recipe for a good cursing." Ron opened his mouth to retort, but Harry's fist connected with his mouth and the lanky boy went down hard. Ron wiped blood off of his mouth as he scrambled to his feet and spluttered his way back into the corridor. If possible, the atmosphere within the compartment descended into deeper frost than it had been in before, as Harry healed his knuckles with his wand and retreated back into his skull to brood. Susan pressed herself into his side and wrapped his arm around her as she turned back to her book to while away the time until they got to Hogwarts.

Daphne chewed on her lip as she worried about Harry. He seemed to blame himself entirely for Neville's death, and if Ron's reaction was anything to go by then he would have ample reminders of the boy over the coming year. She worried about Hal too, but for a different reason, as he seemed entirely remorseless after his brutality towards Bellatrix. The ministry hadn't detected his unforgivable curse because it was plausible for Bellatrix to have died from her wounds alone, but Daphne knew the hate that a person had to harbour in order to successfully cast the curse. Hal was surely powerful, but his greatest strength had always been his control over his magic, which was appearing to slip after the events at the ministry.

The door opened again, this time revealing a second year who thrust a roll of parchment into Hal's hand and ran from the intimidating sixth years. Hal cleared his throat and announced that the four of them had been invited to Slughorn's compartment, and so after warding their space to prevent any issues they made their way up the train until they got to the professor's private cabin, in which were already seated several sixth and seventh years, along with a handful of fifth years and below, all of whom had plates of food in front of them and all of whom looked decidedly uncomfortable about the entire situation.

"Ahh! Harry, good to see you," said Slughorn, gesturing to some seats near to him that remained unfilled. "Might you introduce me to your friends?"

"This is Susan Bones, my girlfriend, who is one of the most talented transfiguration students in the school." Slughorn shook her hand and said a few sentences about her aunt and his role in aiding Madam Bones to her elevated position in the DMLE.

"This is Daphne Greengrass, an exceptionally talented charms student and peerless defensive duellist." Slughorn offered the girl a smile as he asked a question about her charms work and received an enthusiastic response.

"Finally, This is Harold Selwyn, known by Hal only," Harry smirked as Hal hated his full name, "who is possibly the most naturally talented student ever to show an interest in Arithmancy, and was recently awarded a first-class order of merlin for dealing with a powerful dark witch at the end of last year." Slughorn's eyes widened as he recognised the boy at last, and they spoke at some length about his arithmancy projects, of which Slughorn seemed to grasp less than half, which was an impressive amount considering the complexity of the mathematics involved.

They learned that Slughorn would be resuming his old post of potions master, while Snape would transfer over to defence professor. The old man proved to be every bit as charismatic as he was reputed to be, and showed more respect for ambition than blood, which was a fact that pleased most of the people sitting around his table. Nearly three hours later, and the train was approaching Hogsmeade, so the students were released to change into their robes before they arrived.

"So what did you guys think of Slughorn?" asked Daphne.

"He's unusual. He has a lot of influence due to the network he's built up around himself but no actual power as he merely aids others in achieving and then cashes in on their appreciation. He seems nice enough, and he'll likely be a fair potions master."

"That's roughly what Dumbledore said. Slughorn was a prodigious potions student at school, and people were disappointed to see him go into teaching but he is certainly a Slytherin."

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

"Sorry I'm late, professor," said Harry as he briskly walked into the potions room, "are there any spare textbooks?" he asked.

"Not to worry, my boy, and look in that cupboard, there should be one there that you can borrow for today." Harry collected the book and joined the class gathered around the large middle table.

"Now! Who can identify these potions?" he indicated several bubbling crystal vials of potion, "You, miss Greengrass." Daphne pointed to a mud-like potion, "That's polyjuice, it changes the drinker into the form of whatever biological human matter is placed into it. The strength varies based on the material used to make the potion, for example- hair results in an hour's transformation, whereas flesh can transform you for up to an entire day, and brain matter results in a permanent transformation, although this action is obviously prohibited by the International Wizarding Convention on Human Rights and Reasonable Warfare of 1949."

"Excellent, fifteen points for Slytherin. Now, mr Potter?" he indicated a luscious pink potion with spiralling smoke and a delectable smell.

"That's amortentia, or the false love potion. It's obviously not true love, but it is a potion which affects the very soul of the drinker and forms a connection between them and the one it is keyed to. Soul magic is, on the whole, dark and dangerous. This potion is no exception, as it can be used to ruin lives through infatuation and obsessions. The drinkers often damage themselves in attempts to please the one it's keyed to, as the potion ties the dopamine release of the subject directly to the keyed target. It can result in depression and suicide if the person that it is tied to rejects or simply does not see the victim."

"Excellent. Take a well-earned fifteen points. This potion is the most dangerous one in the room, and as such I will not teach anyone how to brew it. Unlike most other love potions it strengthens over time and stays in the body for an extended period, meaning that the one who doses their victim can inadvertently become hurt by their victim as they become more and more passionate. Now, mr Selwyn, what is this one?" he indicated a golden potion which was leaping out of its cauldron without spilling a single drop.

"Felix felicis, or liquid luck, is a potion that is quite poorly understood, and is incredibly addictive. It manipulates the brain of the user to result- somehow- in every action of the user to succeed. Lethal if improperly brewed, and tricky to brew correctly, although obviously very useful." Slughorn nodded and awarded ten more points to Slytherin.

"This is what I offer you; one tiny vial of luck, enough for twenty four hours of luck, for the person who brews the best cauldron of the draught of living death. You have two hours, the recipe is found on page ten of your textbooks."

Harry took up a position next to Hal's cauldron, but the boy smirked and erected a privacy ward around his cauldron to avoid Harry copying him. Clearly he wanted the luck potion for himself. Harry dropped the wormwood bark into a beaker, and added the alcohol to extract the essence of the bark. He then turned to the book and read the instructions for the next step, which had been edited by a thin, spidery handwriting. He decided that he would take the risk and placed the asphodel root into his marble mortar, and crushed with the silver pestle, as the edited instructions said to. He added both into the bubbling cauldron and the potion went purple, as described. Harry stirred the cauldron twice clockwise, before mashing the sloth's brain as it simmered on low heat for ten minutes. Harry scraped the grey gooey substance into the cauldron where it dissolved immediately, before crushing thirteen sophorous beans and adding their juices to the potion, which instantly went a pale lilac colour. Harry began to stir the potion, watching it get a shade lighter each time he added in the clockwise stir, and sat there for the remaining time until Slughorn called for them to stop stirring.

Hal dropped the privacy ward, revealing his potion which looked just as clear as Harry's, but Hal looked much less frazzled due to the fact that he had brewed this potion before. Slughorn walked around the room and tested some potions, others he merely looked at before shaking his head. Ron's potion had the potion master coughing and deducting five points from Gryffindor, but most of the class had produced an average at best potion. Only once Slughorn got to Harry, Hal, and Daphne's table did he praise any brewing. Daphne got five points, and a smile, while Harry's potion extracted a happy shout.

"It's perfect! Merlin's beard, I'd wager one drop would kill us all! I don't think i need to continue, this potion is utterly flawless!"

Despite his words, he peered into Hal's cauldron and his jaw dropped.

"Well, this potion is just as good as Harry's. This is the kind of potion that you only find in black markets for assassins to purchase as tools to aid them! Would either of you mind if I saved these potions? They can be quite valuable." Hal smirked and nodded, accepting a small vial of felix felicis, and so did Harry, who received an identical vial.

"I don't think any class I've ever taught has had two potions of such quality produced, why not even professor Snape managed such a perfect potion at your age…"

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The defence classroom was utterly silent as the class waited for Snape to make his entrance, which he did - loudly banging through the door to his office as was his habit - but nobody showed any surprise as all of them had been taught by the man in potions for five years at that point.

"Now, your teaching in this subject has been fractured and poor on the whole. As such my entry requirements were exceeds expectations as opposed to the outstanding that I would have required had this been a regular year. Nevertheless, I will expect flawless behaviour and maximum effort in all of my classes, as poor performance will not be tolerated. Today we will be working on silent casting, which I will expect you to have mastered within the month as we don't have time to waste on such a simple concept. You will pair off, and will attempt to hex your opponent. The other of the pair will attempt to repel the hex in equal silence. I have chosen the pairs already, and anyone who talks or leaves their assigned partner will cost their house five points per infraction."

The class obeyed him, forming into the pairs that he had set, which ended up being expectedly poor. Harry had been paired with Ron, and Susan with Draco, but Hal and Daphne had been put together. Ron was the first to attempt a jinx, which resulted in a whole lot of nothing for nearly half an hour. Harry was looking around bored, watching Hal and Daphne send ridiculously overpowered schoolyard jinxes and hexes at each other in silence. Draco and Susan were performing admirably, but Draco's face was flushed in anger as he was incapable of slipping a hex past his opponent. Snape called a stop to the class, and Hal sent a jelly-legs jinx at Daphne who deflected it into Ron, who collapsed to the floor as his bones took on the consistency of water due to the overpowered nature of the spell. Most of the class laughed at that, and Daphne lifted the jinx silently, earning one of Snape's rare smiles as Ron rose to his feet.

"Allow me to demonstrate, Ronald." he said, before firing off a barrage of spells in Harry's direction, all of which were neatly deflected or cancelled in utter silence. Snape frowned.

"Well, at least you're good at this, Potter. You might just end up standing a chance against the dark lord, provided this isn't some fluke. Now, I give you permission to jinx me, in silence of course."

Harry grinned as he slashed his wand towards the professor, sending out an array of powerful jinxes and hexes towards the professor, whose eyes widened at the pace of the casting, but who managed to deflect each and every spell. Clearly, Snape had not been expecting such proficiency out of Harry, but appeared pleasantly surprised at the skill he found.

"Enough," he said, calling the exercise to a halt, "thirty points for Slytherin, ten each for Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, and twenty for Ravenclaw. Ten each for every person to have already mastered this concept. To all the others I will assign two feet on the role of intent in spellcasting, and will expect progress to have been made by next lesson. Focus more on what you want the spell to do, rather than the words or wand movements. Ensure you read chapter two of the textbook in time for wednesday's double period. Class dismissed."

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry knocked on Dumbledore's door, and entered when he heard the man's soft call. He walked into the familiar room, the site of a furious argument between him and the old man at the end of the last year, when he had promised to teach him. He saw a crystal pensive sitting on the desk, along with glass vials of memories. Dumbledore gestured to a chair, and Harry sank into the comfortable seat. Harry looked towards the man, with raised eyebrows, and Dumbledore filled him in.

"I'm sure you're wondering what you're going to be learning in these sessions, and tonight I will tell you. To guarantee victory, you must know both yourself and your enemy. Therefore I will teach you all I know about your enemy, for I know much about him. I will also be teaching you how to fight. I'm sure that you have received some instruction before in this topic, but to have real hope of defeating Voldemort you must know combat.

"Why now? I'm sure you're wondering it. As you have no doubt not noticed I have grievously injured myself in a struggle with one of Voldemort's darker artefacts, which is now destroyed." Dumbledore revealed a withered left hand, with dark streaks of magic reaching up his entire arm. "Now, to business. Lord Voldemort was born Tom Marvolo Riddle, and left in an orphanage in the care of muggles, which is where he became bitter and imbued with cruelty. I do not believe that this was the root cause of his viciousness, but it no doubt accelerated his descent into madness." Dumbledore reached for one of the bottles, and tapped it with his wand, causing the stopper to fly out and the memory to pour itself into the pensive. Dumbledore entered the memory, and Harry followed, finding himself on a road marked by signs for Greater Hangleton and Little Hangleton.

After they resurfaced from the memory, Harry sat back into his chair and rubbed the stubble that often covered his face if he didn't shave. Dumbledore resumed his exposition.

"In the memory, you saw Voldemort's family, his mother, uncle, and grandfather. Now, it came to be that Merope fell in love with a muggle man, and fed him a love potion to ensnare him. She became pregnant while he was still under the influence of the soul magic of amortentia, but as soon as she stopped dosing the men he fled. Merope, heavily pregnant by this point, came to London and sold her most valuable artefact to a mr Borgin for a pittance, before she found an orphanage, qave birth and then passed away that night. Here I will show you a memory that belongs to me; it is of mine and Tom's first meeting." Once again, Dumbledore prepared the pensive after extracting the previous memory from the magical device, and Harry found himself on a busy london street, following Dumbledore on his way through an orphanage's wrought iron gate and into the shabby building itself.

Harry had many questions, but Dumbledore held up a finger before he could speak.

"I hope you noticed that Tom was already using his 'accidental' bursts of magic to torture and torment his fellow orphans, and he was fully aware of his ability to speak to snakes. Note how even at eleven he was seeking ways to gain power."

"Did you know, sir?"

"That I had just met one of the vilest and most dangerous wizards of all time? No. If I had… Well I wasn't blind, nor was I stupid; I resolved to watch him carefully when he arrived at school for evidence of continued brutality. I never once found evidence that it had been him, but the record for total hospital wing visits occurred during Tom's seventh year, after he'd gathered a band of loyal followers.

"Now, this final memory that I want you to watch tonight is from professor Slughorn, and is the reason that I brought him out of retirement to teach. It has also been inexpertly tampered with, which you will clearly see when we re-watch it. Pay close attention, as this memory holds the key to defeating Voldemort, and tells us the reason why he survived all those years ago when he attempted to take your life." Dumbledore again prepared the pensieve, poking the bottle with his wand to coax the rather more viscous liquid out of its vial. Harry followed Dumbledore into the mist, and found himself seated at a table with several other boys, watching a conversation take place between them and Slughorn who was a little less plump and a little less bald, but otherwise exactly the same. The clock struck eight, and the boys rose and walked out of the door, other than a tall and handsome boy who looked like the man that Harry had fought in the graveyard, but younger.

"Look sharp, Tom, you don't want to be caught out of bed after hours, do you?" the boy smirked.

"I have a question that I need answered, and I know it's not your area of expertise, but- well," the boy sighed, "it's just that the other professors would misunderstand. They're not like you. They would doubt my intentions."

"Ask away, my dear boy, ask away!" said Slughorn jovially.

"Well I came across a term in my reading, some thing called a horcrux, and I wondered-" the boy's mouth kept moving, but the words stopped coming out, and Slughorn's voice rang out around them, despite his mouth remaining motionless.

"I don't know anything about that! And if you had any respect you'd never broach this subject! Now get out of my sight!" And with that, grey smoke descended around Harry and Dumbledore, and they rose up out of the pensieve.

Dumbledore cupped a hand of the fluid in the pensieve, letting the memory trickle out between his fingers.

"This memory is everything. Without it we are blind, and yet with it we are little better. For this reason, I am setting work for you. There will be no time limit, but the sooner you can acquire the true memory the better. Work your way into Slughorn's little club, ingratiate yourself with him, but either way you must not fail. It is imperative we know the contents of this memory." Harry nodded.

"Sir, can I tell Susan, Hal, and Daphne about these sessions?" Dumbledore frowned.

"Susan, yes, but I'm not sure if associating with either Slytherin would be a good idea for you." Harry returned the frown.

"Surely they've proved their loyalty and goodness. Last year they came to the ministry with me and defended me when they saw that I would not be discouraged."

"Do what you see fit, Harry, but choose your allies carefully as there will always be those who wish you harm." Harry nodded, and turned to leave at the implied dismissal in his tone. He paused by the door as Dumbledore called to him.

"Remember, you _must not_ fail. Everything hinges on this."

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry, Susan, Hal, and Daphne were sat in the three broomsticks on a frosty december afternoon, with wind howling through the streets of Hogsmeade, drinking foamy mugs of butterbeer. They were laughing at a story told animatedly by Susan about a rogue broomstick, her aunt's boyfriend, and a bar of soap when Slughorn appeared at the head of the table.

"Harry! Just the person I was hoping to see! I wanted to invite you to a little christmas party that I'm hosting, just a small gathering with a few guests. You three would naturally be invited too, and you're welcome to bring a special friend if you'd want."

"I'd love to, sir." said Harry in an almost convincing manner, which the slightly inebriated Slughorn bought in its entirety. The man in the tweed waistcoat ambled away, foaming mug in hand and settled next to professor McGonagall in a booth.

"Dumbledore's asked me to let him collect me." said Harry by way of explanation, to which Hal raised an eyebrow.

Daphne saw a Katie Bell walk out of the bathroom and into a wooden beam, and tilted her head as she made to leave, with a Hufflepuff that she vaguely knew getting up to follow her friend. Daphne pulled at Hal's sleeve, and his eyes snapped up to see Katie hurrying after her friend. His expression hardened and he threw down a couple of galleons to pay for their drinks as he rose to follow them. Harry and Susan scrambled to follow them, nearly losing track of the pair in the near blizzard that had consumed the village in a white shroud. Hal and Daphne followed the pair of girls closely, but the words that they were saying had been stripped away by the harsh winds.

Suddenly, Katie rose up in the air, hair floating peacefully around her juxtaposed with the horrifying scream coming from her, which sounded as though she was being tortured. Hal's wand was out immediately, and he enveloped the still floating girl in his magic, sensing the blackness of the curse gnawing at the girl. Harry and Daphne's magic joined his own, and together they removed all of the curse that they could. Katie slumped to the floor, still twitching and spasming in the snow, with Leanne sobbing on the sidelines. Susan hurried over to her friend and comforted her, while Harry levitated Katie while Daphne picked a necklace up by its wrappings, careful to ensure that no part of the silver and opal jewelry touched her skin. Hal's silver lynx bounded off before them to deliver his message, and they rushed over the icy bridge towards the castle.

Snape ran towards them from the entrance hall as soon as he saw them, and took the necklace by levitating it. He escorted them to the hospital wing, where madam Pomfrey frantically cared for the girl. According to Snape, the three of them had prevented any lasting harm to the girl by stopping the curse's progression, but she would still be in a critical state for a few weeks at least. Madam Pomfrey's butterfly of a patronus vanished in a swirl of silver smoke, and minutes later a pair of healers appeared in the hospital wing before they whisked the girl away to st Mungo's where she would complete her recovery.

Snape turned to the four of them, looking up from his murmurings over the necklace.

"Fifty points to Slytherin, and twenty-five each to Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. You certainly saved a girl's life today with your fast action. It would also appear that Katie was under the imperius curse, but I am unable to determine its origin. It is unlikely that we will discover the perpetrator of this crime, as mr Borgin would never tell us who bought this item."

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Slughorn had outdone himself for the christmas party, with his office being magically enlarged and bedecked in silken drapery that muffled the normally echoey room and gave a sense of warmth. The man had also invited many guests, despite his assertion that it would be a 'little event.' Harry was standing next to susan, with a glass of mead in his hand, talking to an unspeakable about what little the mysterious figure was allowed to talk to the general public about. According to him, time was a key area of research for the department of mysteries, but they had been set back centuries by the destruction of the cabinet full of time-turners at the end of Harry's last year, which the boy had looked sheepish about.

Hal was talking to a german potions master, speaking quickly to him in terms that few would understand, but with an excited look on his face. The potions master had a quizzical glint in his eye as he had rarely seen such expertise in fully qualified wizards, let alone one who had yet to complete his secondary education. Daphne was beside him, chatting with an enchantress who sold the magical mirrors that enabled the instant communication that Hal and his friends had been using for years to talk. The woman had become very famous, and had made a fortune for herself and her early investors, one of whom had been Hal's father before his death.

The Gryffindor keeper, Cormac McLaggen, was making an utter fool of himself in front of anybody vaguely resembling the female form, and had to be escorted from the premises by an irate professor McGonagall, much to the amusement of Snape and Slughorn who were talking softly near to where Hal and the potions master were delving deep into brewing theory.

Suddenly, a commotion was heard from the entryway, and Filch appeared, dragging an irate Draco Malfoy into the room by the collar of his robes.

"I caught this one, skulking about! Says he was invited, professor Slughorn."

"Alright- alright I was gatecrashing! Happy?" Draco spat back at the old man with long, lank, and thinning hair, twisting around to break his grip on his clothing. Snape stepped forward.

"I'll deal with this one, Argus. He is in my house, after all." Snape's hand closed around Draco's upper arm like a vice, and pulled him from the room. The soft ambient music started up again as they left, and people returned to their conversations.

Harry pulled his cloak from within the magically enlarged pocket that he'd had put into all of his robes, and swept it around himself, allowing him to vanish from sight. The unspeakable that he had been conversing with merely grinned and continued to speak to Susan who had found herself suddenly holding two glasses rather than one as her boyfriend vanished from sight. Harry made his way through the crowded room and into the corridor, stopping at each of the doors to listen to what he heard behind each of them. Behind one such door he heard a soft buzzing, and he projected his magic through the soft ward to hear what was behind it.

"I swore to your mother, Draco, I made the unbreakable vow. I know what the Dark Lord has ordered of you, allow me to help."

"I'm not a child, _Severus_ , and I don't need your help. I'm managing fine alone."

"Managing fine like the Katie Bell incident? I will not allow you to endanger other students in your attempt." Harry heard a scuffle, and rapid steps towards the door. He threw himself against the wall as the door sprang open and Draco stormed out, not noticing the exposed tips of Harry's shoes in his anger.

AN

A fairly slow chapter, sorry. Book six is more filler than any of the others, to the extent that I was considering making it a single chapter like I did for the first three books, but then I discovered that I'd written 7000 words.

Notes on Harry's lessons with Dumbledore:

He is going to be learning offensive and defensive magic from Dumbledore. This is to cover myself for when Harry shows real power; I don't want to have to find a reasonable explanation for it other than that he was trained by one of the greatest ever wizards.

Notes on OWLs:

Best in country prizes seemed like a harmless addition to the universe, so I included them. I also took the liberty of including some of the additional subjects that were never explicitly mentioned in the books that I found on the wiki page. Also, Harry's inflated grades come from his increased raw power in my story, and his relationship with very studious people like Daphne, Hal, and Susan.

Justification for power levels of characters:

Voldemort was certainly capable of such magic during his school years, as he made at least one horcrux before leaving school. I don't think it is too much of a stretch therefore to have Hal, Harry, and Daphne portrayed as insanely strong before leaving school, especially when you take into account that they have been practicing combat every day for three and a half years, with professional instruction during the holidays.

/AN


	9. Chapter 9

It was a frosty January morning when the students returned from their christmas break, rejoining those who had elected to remain at the castle over the holiday, and immediately upon entering the castle, Hal was beset by an extremely excited professor Vector who was brandishing the winter edition of transfiguration today. The short woman fired off questions at the sixth-year, demanding to know every single detail of his work and the paper that he had written.

Over the last year or so, Hal had been working on an incredibly complex arithmancy project which involved forming a representative model of magic in complex euclidean n-space, as well as equations that described with great accuracy the way in which the magic seeped out of that space and into realspace. The scope and application of the work was mind-blowing, at least to one who knew what they were talking about, as it enabled the use of the more conventional and developed muggle brand of mathematics to finally predict things about the magical world, allowing enchanters, healers, and spellcrafters to complete their work with greater precision and with far fewer mistakes.

As classes resumed, the four of them found themselves having to work for the first time to keep their heads above the water, in that every class was harder, and every teacher was setting more and more work as the year went on. A great number of their fellow sixth years were struggling, and many of them had received detentions or other such punishments for not completing their work. Professor Snape was one of the harshest teachers that there was in terms of punishment, but none could fault his teaching ability.

There was, therefore, a great deal of hype built up around the first Quidditch game of the new year, as it would see the defending champions of Slytherin go up against the rising stars in Gryffindor. Even Susan was excited about the game on the morning in question, and was decked out in red and gold, even going so far as to magically recolour half of her hair to be gold, and the other half to be crimson rather than her usual deep reds. Hal smirked as he talked trash to Harry in the entrance hall before they went down to the Quidditch pitch, something which drew almost as much interest as the actual game itself, with a great ring of people surrounding the two quidditch captains all jeering and throwing light hearted insults of their own.

It was all in good fun, however, as the two boys embraced before they headed out to the pitch, the red of Harry's robes contrasting neatly with the green of Hal's. The cheers of the crowd filling the stands could be heard by both teams as their captains gave a last minute tactical talk, as well as a motivational speech. The latter was wholly unnecessary as the crowd was having a motivational effect on the players by itself.

Harry kicked off the hard ground as the game began, searching for the snitch and watching for plays that he could break up or help out with. He wasn't too hopeful of their chances, which was why he needed to catch the snitch fast. Sure, Peakes and Coote were good, but the Slytherin chasers were nearly unstoppable with Hal leading them. Harry also had very little faith in Ron, his keeper, who'd had an awful time of it when the Slytherins shot insults and barbs at him in the corridors and classrooms. Sure enough, Slytherin were rocketing ahead, and were already up by twenty points, due to several incredible shots by their beaters and a few stunning goals from Hal. Ginny seemed almost as good as Hal, but not quite, missing out on a few plays due to her less massive frame and slightly more hesitant nature on a broomstick.

Play continued in a similar fashion for nearly an hour, by which point Slytherin had pulled ahead by one hundred and twenty points, with Ginny playing her heart out to try and keep up with Hal. Suddenly, Harry saw the snitch and raced off after it, closely pursued by Malfoy. The golden fleck in his vision took a sharp turn, and Harry followed it into a dive, remaining neck and neck with his opponent. The stadium quietened as the two seekers closed in on the tiny ball, before Harry's hand closed on it in triumph, with Draco's fingers shutting around thin air a fraction of a second later. The crowd roared, as Gryffindor had beaten the current champions by a margin of only ten points. Harry smiled not at the victory, but at the mental image of Hal's eyebrows the next day after he coloured them red and gold due to their bet.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

"Katie!" called Harry as he saw her make her way into the main hall on her first day back at the castle after spending time in st Mungo's. She stopped and waited for him to reach her, looking resigned but pleased to be back at Hogwarts.

"How have you been?"

"Actually, I could probably have come back last week, but the healers wanted to do observation on me. Thank you for what you did, with Hal and Daphne too; the healers said that I would have likely died if you hadn't done what you did for me. And before you ask, no, I don't know who cursed me." Harry looked past her, and saw Malfoy rushing out of the hall, and his scar prickled.

Harry found himself in the bathroom on the second floor, watching Draco sob into a sink as Myrtle hovered over him.

"I know what you did, Malfoy."

A grunt followed his statement and Harry deflected a stream of light away from himself. He returned in kind, his spell obliterating the mirror and half of the row of sinks behind Malfoy. Water began to pour onto the floor as the destroyed sink spewed out water at an alarming rate. Malfoy shot several more jets of various colours at Harry, but all of them were avoided and resulted in no more than fist-sized holes in the wall behind him. The water underneath the two boys began to steam as raw and crackling magical energy filled the room as the pace of their duel increased. Harry was surprised by Draco's talent at duelling, and surmised that he received lessons from an expert, perhaps Snape. Harry slipped in the water that was now uncomfortably hot, and immediately found himself under indescribable pain, and drew blood from his lip as he fought the urge to scream out. His head was scalded by the heat of the water, and he shakily aimed his wand at Malfoy as he channeled the spell, and fired off a spell recently taught to him by Dumbledore.

Now it was Malfoy's turn to fall, as lacerations had opened up all over his body. Vitreous humor leaked down his face as his left eye had been ruined by the invisible sword, and blood began to diffuse out into the water. Harry shifted onto one knee and gestured with his left hand, summoning Malfoy's wand into it. He tried to stand, but found that his legs were shaking so badly that he was unable, and the door to the bathroom burst open, admitting Snape and Dumbledore. Snape immediately rushed over to Draco and began to close his wounds. Dumbledore helped Harry to his feet before he moved over to aid Snape. Dumbledore murmured softly as he moved his wand, causing the mixed blood and humor that covered Malfoy's face to slide back into his eye, which closed up behind the fluid mixture. Harry cooled the water on the floor with a wave of his wand preventing the two teachers from suffering burns as they healed the still prone boy on the floor. Harry waved his wand again and vanished the now blood-free water from the floor, and dried off his robes. As the pain from the cruciatus curse faded, he became increasingly aware of his other ailments, such as the lancing pain through his ankle and the burns spread across the entire reverse of his body.

Dumbledore rose from tending to the boy on the floor, and glanced over at Harry, before flicking his wand at the boy. Harry's ankle gave a loud crack as the pain vanished, and his blistered back felt cool and light as though the injury was a few weeks old. The man wordlessly held out his hand, and Harry placed both wands into it. Dumbledore forced each wand to recount the last few spells cast with it, raising his eyebrows when he saw the scale of curses that the wands revealed, and only stopping when Harry's wand spat out a contraceptive charm. The man let out a chuckle before he spoke.

"Well, you're not going to be punished for this. You were merely defending yourself after all. I will ask that you pay for the sinks and mirrors that you ruined, but apart from that you were acting in pure self defence. As for mr Malfoy, he will be punished, but likely panicked when you confronted him. The fact that you were capable of cursing him even under his own curse tells me that his heart wasn't in the curse; that he didn't truly mean it but that it was reflexive."

Harry's mouth fell open at Dumbledore's words, and he turned on his heel and left the bathroom to go to his first lesson of the day.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

"Look, he cursed Katie. His reaction to seeing me talking to her basically proves that." Harry was seated under an old oak tree beside the lake in the first of the springtime sunlight, talking to his three confidants.

"I'm not saying I disagree with you, but what would the purpose of that be? What does he hope to achieve?" Susan spoke from her position with her head on Harry's lap, twirling her wand idly in her hand.

"Perhaps…" began Daphne, "Lucius failed miserably towards the end of last year, and Voldemort was very unhappy at his failure. Perhaps Draco is being used to punish Lucius?" Hal walked away from the tree that he'd been leaning on, hands clasped behind his back as he thought.

"That seems unlikely. If it was the case then he would have a mark."

"He does have a mark," Daphne suddenly said, before blushing and clarifying, "Parkinson and her lot were discussing him, and her and Draco's activities came up. Knowledge is power, and so I didn't not overhear them talking. They talked about a tattoo of his on his left arm, and whether they would still… enjoy his company."

"Parkinson doesn't seem like one to share though," mused Susan, before being interrupted by Daphne's snicker.

"She's not. She is very jealous of him as they are betrothed, but he seems keen on getting as much experience as he can before he leaves Hogwarts and has to commit to her." Hal cleared his throat.

"Either way, it would seem that his job was to harm someone or destroy something, that's the only reason I can think of for him using the necklace. Who would his target be?"

"Harry?" suggested Susan, but Harry shook his head.

"If it had been me, Katie would have just given it to me in the pub, or on the way back to the castle. It can't be Hal either, for the same reason."

"Could it be Slughorn? Voldemort was trying to recruit him for a long time and obviously can't be happy that Dumbledore got to him first," Susan suggested.

"Voldemort wanted to punish Lucius, and Draco might actually succeed if Slughorn was his actual target. I think it's Dumbledore." Hal spoke, looking out over the mirror smooth surface of the lake reflecting the pale rays of the sun.

"Draco disappears for long periods of time, too. He's lost weight, and looks like he isn't getting any sleep. Last year he took joy in bullying the younger Slytherins, but now he doesn't seem to care, or maybe he's just too tired to care anymore," Daphne joined her boyfriend, "I think he's trying to fix something, but I couldn't tell you what it is."

"Hang on, we're being stupid," said Hal, "Pinky!" Hal's house elf appeared with a crack.

"What can Pinky do for yous?"

"Pinky, I have a very important job for you. I want you to follow the Malfoy heir when he is awake, and note where he goes, and with whom. Do not be seen, do not put yourself in danger to do this, but if you can find out what he is trying to fix, or where it is, then I would be very happy."

"Pinky can do that sir!" and with a crack she disappeared from sight, and then with another, more muffled crack, her shadow vanished too.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry's lessons with Dumbledore had accelerated in pace, and he would return from them nearly three evenings per week physically and magically exhausted. The others didn't mind too much, as they knew that if Harry wanted to stand a chance of defeating Voldemort he would have to become incredibly powerful. Hal and Daphne were duelling each night in the room of requirement, and these duels lasted until one of them was too exhausted to continue, as Hal's blistering offence ran headfirst into the unmoving defence that Daphne offered. These duels still usually ended with Hal's victory, but only because he could out-last Daphne due to his greater raw magical power.

It was in a rare quiet moment that Pinky returned, reporting that while she couldn't be sure of what Draco was fixing, but that it was certainly in the room of requirement, as she had seen him entering with 'a variety of students' waiting outside to perform guard duty. Harry had looked the most worried about that, as he was unsure about what Draco would need to fix if he was inside the room, as it would certainly be something complex and no doubt deadly. The four of them resolved to discover what it was that the room turned into for Draco, and Susan began constructing requests that could possibly get the room to reveal the secret to them.

So it was that after nearly a month of trying out various phraseologies and ways of speaking to try and gain them access that they finally managed to enter the room.

"I need to find where it's hidden," thought Hal,

"I need to find where it's hidden," he paced back down the hall,

"I need to find where it's hidden." Hal turned to face the smooth stone, and grinned as a small door appeared set back into the limestone. He coughed, and Daphne, Harry, and Susan hurried over to him, before they entered the doorway.

A vaulted room, so large and tall that the roof and opposite walls could not be seen, was spread out before them, without the layer of dust that you might expect the items to have covering them. Harry's jaw dropped, the vastness of the room meant that they were very unlikely to find any specific object in the room unless the room wanted them to. They split off into pairs, with Hal and Daphne heading left while Harry headed down the right path with Susan.

Hal's eyes were like saucers as he practically span around looking at all of the things that had been stored in the room presumably by students and staff members. Many rusty-looking tools and cauldrons were present, along with hundreds of books and clothes. Hal would occasionally grab an object from one of the mounds, and so far he had collected a complete set of incredibly rare volumes on combat magic, as well as two enchanted goblin-forged daggers. He was in the process of taking a vial of what he said was manticore venom from a mildewed cupboard when Daphne let out a soft exclamation.

"You alright?" he asked, stowing the lethal liquid safely in an unbreakable lockbox.

"Hal, come and look at this. Is this thing what I think it is?" Hal came over to find Daphne levitating an ornate goblin wrought silver tiara, set with opals that glittered through all of the colours in the rainbow. Hal ran a finger over the tiny script engraved into the bottom.

" _Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure_ ," he breathed.

"It's Rowena's, isn't it?" Daphne spoke with the same tone of reverence as Hal had used. Hal touched the silver once again, and pulled his hand away sharply with a yelp.

"It's cursed, someone's defiled this artefact," he pulled the mirror from his pocket, and breathed Harry's name into it, before he shot crimson sparks into the air from his wand, "Harry, Susan, you'd better come here, we've found something huge."

They waited, still looking at the diadem, before a crashing sound grabbed their attention, and they saw Harry and Susan jump form the top of a pile of junk and land at their sides, using a well timed cushioning charm to prevent injury.

"Touch it, Harry, I want a second opinion." said Hal, and Harry stretched out a finger and brushed the surface of the pristine metal. He withdrew his hand with a shocked expression.

"That's Voldemort's, I knew I felt his presence somewhere around here. He's made that crown into a horcrux."

"That's not just any old crown. That's Ravenclaw's diadem, a priceless artefact from a full millennium ago, and better enchanted than any artefact ever was before, or has ever been since." Daphne spoke in a harsh tone, as though berating Harry for his lack of knowledge. Harry pulled out his wand.

"I'm going to destroy it."

"Hell no, it's far too valuable to ruin like that." Hal responded, flicking his wrist and pointing his own wand at Harry. Susan raised her own, and Daphne's wand tip appeared, pointing straight between the eyes of Susan.

"Hal, come on, it's tethering the snakey bastard to life, we'll have to destroy it somehow." Harry said, placatingly.

"You know I'm not about to let you do that," Hal snarled back at him.

"What's happening to you? Why are you doing this?" Susan frowned as she spoke, the tip of her wand wavering slightly but still pointed firmly at Hal.

Harry grunted, and his spell slammed into a shield with a pearlescent quality to it, causing a sound like a great bell, and the spell flew off into a pile of hidden things to the left. Susan shot a jet of flame from her wand, which also impacted the shield and rebounded. Harry and Susan rolled in opposite directions to avoid the flame, giving Hal all the opportunity that he needed to quite literally return fire. Harry's jaw dropped as the black flames billowed from Hal's wand and surged across the empty space towards him, and he barely managed to fling up a shield between himself and the rolling fire. A building sound like nails on a chalkboard or keys on a violin e-string could be heard, unsettling all involved, but the sound was the least of their worries as the ferocious duel continued.

Harry finally managed to dispel the fire, and shot a series of golden beams towards Hal, who turned to avoid the first few, and absorbed the others into the tip of his wand, before releasing them as a burst of violet light towards Susan, who dropped to the floor to avoid the no-doubt lethal attack. Daphne capitalised on her prone position on the floor and the girl was flung back by a bombarda curse, and hit her head on the corner of a heavy dark wooden cabinet that stood in the middle of a cleared area. She crumpled to the floor. Harry's eyes turned to a silvery hue as his rage overtook him, and the area around him crackled with energy as he shot spell after spell towards them. Daphne shielded the both of them from the spells, allowing Hal to continue his own assault with jets of purple that precisely matched his own glowing eyes. Suddenly, one of Harry's spells broke through the barrier, striking Daphne's wand and causing her to scream in pain as she fell back. Her wand had exploded in her hand after it absorbed Harry's curse, and her hand had been shredded by the force of the pure magical energy that had flowed out from the epicenter of the explosion. Hal snarled as his own spells came thicker and faster than before, and his eyes were blinding suns of purple light. Harry dodged as many spells as he could, and deflected the rest.

Harry waved his wand, causing a chest of drawers to fly out from the pile of junk and barely miss Hal, causing him to have to reset his aim and buying Harry a few precious milliseconds. Harry shot a jet of light at Hal, whose wand arced up impossibly fast to deflect it, and it impacted the diadem sitting where it had been dropped at the start of the fight. The diadem flew up into the air at the impact, and Hal shook his head as though he had surfaced from under a great body of water. The crown crashed to the floor, landing in the small pool of blood that was dripping from Daphne's ruined hand, and the note that was heard throughout the entire fight rose to a crescendo.

" _Avada Kedavra_ "

A jet of green from Hal's wand hit the diadem, and the note cut off abruptly. Harry lowered his wand and turned to see Hal's face which was white like a sheet.

"I'm so, so sorry. We'd been near that thing for at least fifteen minutes before you got here. I bet that's why it turned to blows."

"Look, I knew it wasn't you when you objected to destroying the horcrux. You hate him almost as much as I do." Hal smiled weakly at his friend's words, before he turned to Daphne who had lost consciousness and squatted down beside her. Hal moved his wand in a twirling pattern, and the stump at the end of her wrist began to grow, forming into the shape of a hand. Hal then removed a small bottle of skele-gro and fed her half, before pouring the rest over her hand. He then put the mottle down and poured drops of dittany over the raw flesh, which caused pink skin to form over the bare flesh, sealing the skele-gro inside. Daphne shifted uncomfortably in her sleep as fragments of bone formed inside the flesh, and Hal once again moved his wand over her hand, muttering softly as the old tendon met up with the new, and nails grew from the ends of her new fingers.

Susan's aid was far simpler, Harry just repaired the fractured skull with a flick of his wand and a murmured incantation, before he checked for concussion and then revived her. She gasped as she awoke, sitting up rapidly before looking queasy and propping herself up on her elbows. Harry pressed a kiss to her forehead and stalked over to the diadem. He picked it up and flooded his magic into it, detecting no trace of Voldemort's magic, and inspecting the varied enchantments placed upon the item. Harry grinned as he saw the elegance and mastery of the enchantments upon the piece of jewelry, and placed the crown on his head, grinning at the heady sense of wisdom that it imparted to him. Hal looked over at him and snickered.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

A few months passed, and Daphne's wand was replaced by a beautiful commissioned piece made of dragon's blood wood, and with a core comprised of a basilisk's heartstring- something only made possible by the killing of the basilisk that had petrified her in her second year. That heartstring had then been soaked in manticore venom, and was therefore especially powerful when it came to offensive and defensive spells. Daphne's magic had grown stronger and stronger for each hour that she used the new wand, and Hal had theorised that the wand which had been made especially for her, rather than merely choosing her, had formed an unusually close bond with her very magic, and had unlocked some of her potential to a greater degree than her old wand, which would serve to explain why it was better than her previous one. Her repaired hand was not faring nearly as well, despite the near-perfect work that Hal had done. A healer who was an expert on hands had taken a look at it and had said that the work done was some of the best that he'd ever seen a person do, topped only by his own repairs, but that such a repair job would naturally feel strange for a long time after it was done simply due to the fact that it was such a big thing to replace an entire hand. At least Hal had made it look just like it had used to.

Harry was getting nervous because, despite his best efforts, Slughorn would not give him the memory. He had even cornered him after class one day, joking about Ron's love potion incident the week before, but the man had quickly made his excuses and nearly ran out of the classroom.

"I think you should use it, the felix felicis that it, Harry. I get that it feels dishonest, but Dumbledore said that this memory was the key to defeating Voldemort. Surely this is worth it." Susan argued whenever he brought it up, and Harry agreed with her. Harry had taken a measured sip of the potion, something that he thought would give him around five hours of luck, and had been instantly overcome with a burning desire to comfort Hagrid over the death of Aragog, who had died earlier that day. Hagrid had tearfully informed Harry of the event at the breakfast table, but Harry hadn't planned on going until he'd drunk that sip of golden potion.

Harry was walking down beside the greenhouses when he saw Slughorn standing with his head and an arm through an ajar window on greenhouse three, snipping the leaves of a venomous tentacula plant. Harry decided that it was necessary to tie his shoelaces and squatted down to do so, noticing a galleon on the floor next to his right foot as he was down there. Slughorn extricated his head from the window and jumped when he saw Harry.

"Merlin's beard, Harry, you frightened the life out of me!"

"Sorry professor, I was just on my way to see Hagrid when I realised my shoe was untied. His acromantula died this morning, you see, and he's very upset so I thought I'd go and console him." Harry made to carry on walking.

" _Harry!_ You can't possibly go down there on your own! I'm going to come too, to supervise you."

"If you want, Sir."

"Also, if the beast died only recently I may be able to collect a sample of the venom, it sells for _two thousand galleons per litre_ and the teacher's wage isn't the best…" Slughorn trailed off in thought, before hurrying after Harry who had just disappeared around the corner of the greenhouse.

Shortly, they came upon Hagrid's hut, and found the half-giant sobbing outside, with a huge grave sitting open and waiting to receive the enormous spider that was curled up and on its back. Hagrid walked over to them and bent to one knee to wrap Harry in a hug. Harry felt the man's entire body shake in time with his sobs. Slughorn used the opportunity to collect the acromantula venom from the huge spider's body. Hagrid released Harry just as the potions master came back, a masterfully disguised smirk on his face as he schooled his features into a somber mask. Hagrid laid the spider into the grave that he'd dug, and then Slughorn spoke.

"Goodbye, Aragog, king of the arachnids. Though your body may decay, your spirit will linger on in the hearts of those to whom you brought joy." They spent a surreal minute in silence punctuated by Hagrid's sniffles, before Harry waved his wand and the earth softly laid itself over the spider's body. Another flick and grass sprouted from the earth, along with a few daisies and a rough granite headstone. Hagrid broke into fresh sobs as they moved into the cottage, with Slughorn producing two large bottles of elvish wine along with three glasses from somewhere.

Slughorn and Hagrid drank nearly a bottle between them, and Harry even refilled the bottles silently a couple of times before Hagrid fell into a slumber and began to snore.

"Death's an odd thing, wouldn't you say, Sir?" Slughorn started at his words.

"Yes, it is always upsetting when one that we love dies, especially if it is before their time."

"You knew my mother."

"Yes, and when I heard of her death I was most distraught. She had been my absolute, all time, favourite student, and to see a life like hers go to waste… She gave me a fishbowl, you know. I found it on my desk filled to the top with water, and with a single lily petal floating on the surface. As soon as I touched it, it sank and as it sank it turned into a goldfish. On the night she died, I came downstairs and instead of my fish I found a lily petal, withered and blackened by age. That was when I knew." Slughorn's eyes were filled with tears, and one broke out and cut a path down the man's cheeks. Slughorn suddenly looked very old, and very tired.

"My mother did not die for nothing. Her death was not wasted. She gave her dying breath to protect me from Voldemort. She refused to stand aside, to allow him to kill me."

"S-stop."

"You know why Voldemort came after me? There was a prophecy. That's why my parents died, that's why Voldemort still hunts for me. I have to be the one to kill him, but to do that I need to know what he knows. I need to know what you told him all those years ago, professor." Slughorn looked very small; like a man who had been broken utterly.

"P-please"

"My mother did not die for nothing, but if I can't kill voldemort then that will be what she'll have died for. Nothing. I need to know how, professor."

"If it is truly the only way… Don't think worse of me when you see it." Slughorn pressed his wand to his temple, and pulled it away, tapping the silver strand into a spare vial from his waistcoat pocket.

"Thank-you, sir. Maybe we'll stand a chance now."

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry ran through the castle, skidding to a halt at the gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

"Pear drops!"

Harry took the stairs three at a time, and knocked on the door, hearing the voices within become silent immediately.

"Enter!"

Harry opened the door and saw Dumbledore sitting behind his desk, a look of great fatigue on his face.

"Sir, I got the memory!" all traces of tiredness vanished from Dumbledore as he immediately got to his feet.

"Excellent, shall we review it now?" Harry nodded, then tipped the silvery substance into the pensieve and touched it with his wand and then his hand to enter.

Harry was standing in Slughorn's office, watching Slughorn talk to a younger version of Tom riddle. This time, Harry noticed the ring on his middle finger.

"It's called a horcrux."

"School project is this?" asked the younger Slughorn, knowing full well that it was not.

"Not exactly. I came across the term while reading and I didn't really understand the concept."

"Well the general idea is that you split your soul, and then separate one of the fragments and hide it in a separate and protected container. The purpose is that you can be slain, but you will not die unless that separate container is also destroyed, but you must understand that such a half life is pretty unimaginable for most. Very few would choose it."

"But what I don't understand is can you only split the soul once? Wouldn't it be more secure to split it many times, say into seven pieces?"

"Merlin's beard, Tom! Isn't it bad enough to imagine the murder of one person, let alone six? Besides, you can't split the soul indefinitely. Once it reaches a certain fraction, the whole thing becomes critically unstable and vanishes. That happened to Evelyn the unwise around two hundred years ago, she tried to make a horcrux from every killing she did, but once she got to thirteen, she wasted away magically. She was killed just a week later by an auror who stunned her, but without any magic to protect her she was slain instantly."

"Thank-you, sir, I believe I understand now." Voldemort had an insane grin on his face, but Slughorn didn't see it because he was facing the fireplace.

The memory faded, and Dumbledore slumped into a chair.

"This is beyond anything I imagined. Seven, when I'd first theorised three or four."

"Sir, if you don't mind, I think that at least two of them have already been destroyed. That diary was certainly a horcrux, and nobody's seen his snake for over a year now."

"At least three, actually, I paid an arm and a leg for one over the summer." Dumbledore smirked at his joke, lifting his dead hand to show Harry, before producing the ring that Voldemort had been wearing in the memory. "Additionally, I believe I've found another. Of course, you'll be welcome to come with me to find it when the time comes, if you want to."

"I'd want to. I need to be able to find and destroy them if I'm ever going to stand a chance against the man himself."

"That you do, Harry."

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Mere weeks passed until Harry received a note from Dumbledore, telling him to come immediately. Harry stood from his position on the second most comfortable chair in the library and kissed Susan before making his way to Dumbledore's office. He drank the rest of his luck potion on the way, well aware that he would need it if they were going after a horcrux, as Voldemort wasn't going to leave it unguarded. Harry made his way into Dumbledore's office, and the man looked up sharply at him.

"Good, now if you're going to come with me on this, you need to do _exactly_ as I say."

"Of course, sir."

"Harry, I mean whatever I say. If I say 'fight', you fight, if I say 'hide', you hide, and if I were to say 'leave me to die and save yourself', then that is what you must do. I doubt that I need to express to you the danger that we are about to brave."

"I'll do what you say, sir."

"Excellent. Now, I'm sure you remember the memory of my first visit with Tom. We will be visiting the site of his tormenting of those two muggle children on a trip to the seaside, I have found a cave which reeks of magic, and so I put the pieces together."

A short while later, Harry found himself on a spire of rock rising from the sea, following Dumbledore through a narrow channel filled with water, and into a cave set into a cliff face. Harry dried himself off, and shivered. Dumbledore had been truthful when he had said that the place reeked of magic, as Harry could feel the oppressive waves of Voldemort's enchantments coming off of the very walls around him. Dumbledore had halted in front of an innocuous looking wall and was waving his wand over it, before he muttered a soft curse. Dumbledore retrieved a small knife from his belt and made a cut on the back of his cursed forearm, wiping the blood over the rockface before he sealed up the incision and walked through. Harry followed him, taking note of the vast expanse of water, as smooth as glass and darker than coal, with a soft green glow coming from an island in the middle of the lake. Harry flicked his wand.

"It's freshwater, sir."

Dumbledore frowned, continuing along the walkway that led around the side of the lake, before abruptly stopping.

"Harry, do you feel anything in particular here?" Harry cocked his head and reached out his hand, stopping when he felt a light tingling on his palm. Harry tapped his wand on his hand, and a thick green chain appeared clasped within it, stretching down into the depths of the lake. Dumbledore smiled widely at him.

The chain pooled by Harry's feet with a loud clanking sound that pierced the silence of the cavern, and slowly but surely a boat appeared from the depths. Harry clambered in, holding the wooden craft steady to aid Dumbledore. As soon as the headmaster had entered the boat, it began to drift swiftly across the surface of the water, leaving twin lines in its wake which disturbed the otherwise mirror flat surface of the water.

Shortly after this, they came to the island that they had seen from the bank of the lake, a craggy structure that rose steeply from the water, with a basin in the middle from which the green glow emanated. Dumbledore walked over to the basin, and saw that there was a potion within. He began to wave his wand wordlessly over the cream-coloured potion, his frown deepening the longer he remained at the task. He flicked his wand and a crystal goblet appeared in his hand.

"No, Sir, surely you can't mean to drink that!"

"It cannot be vanished, parted, siphoned away, be made harmless, or otherwise neutralised by any means that I can think of. I can only conclude that it must be drunk." He dipped the goblet in, and poured it out on the ground, but before it even hit the rock it reappeared back in the basin. Dumbledore refilled the cup.

"Wait, Sir." Harry conjured his own cup, filled it, and placed it on the ground.

"Ah! Ingenious!" said Dumbledore, but the potion in Harry's cup once again vanished and reappeared in the basin.

"Oh well. Ensure I continue to drink. To your health, Harry!" Dumbledore drained the cup and the jovial smile faded instantly from his face. He dunked the cup back in the basin and drained it again, and again, his eyes closed. By the fifth goblet of potion, he was shaking all over. The crystal goblet fell and shattered on the floor, and Harry picked his own cup off of the floor, filling it with the glowing potion and lifting it to his headmaster's lips. Dumbledore drank the potion dutifully, but after he had finished he screamed out in pain.

"Not them, not them, hurt me!" Harry filled and refilled the goblet, feeling the metal scrape against the stone bottom of the basin.

"Sir, just a little more."

"Gel! Stop! Please not them!"

"This will help, sir," said Harry, and Dumbledore drank like a man dying of thirst, before crying out. "Last one, then it's all over."

Harry grabbed the locket that he knew to be fake (as the real one had already been destroyed) from the basin, pouring the last half-gobletful of the potion out onto the ground, now not caring if it reappeared.

"Harry, water." Harry conjured a stream of it into the goblet, but it vanished when he tried to lift it to Dumbledore's lips to drink. Harry conjured another goblet, but the same issue occurred, and then Harry realised why they were in the lake, and how exactly he could get water, as Voldemort had designed it that way. He walked to the edge of the island, lying down on his stomach to reach the water, and carefully collected a gobletful of the water. Immediately the surface of the lake began to boil and froth, and Harry hurried back to Dumbledore, tipping the water into the man's mouth as inferi clambered onto the island.

Harry twirled his wand around himself, summoning forth a great thick stream of fire that twisted and whipped around him and Dumbledore, but still the mindless magically reanimated corpses staggered towards him in incredible numbers. Dumbledore was leaning heavily on Harry's shoulders as they staggered towards the small boat. Dumbledore summoned his own stream of fire which weaved in and around Harry's, thinner but hotter, and they glided swiftly across the lake which was filled with floating bodies, and burning ones, as well as inferi still shambling towards them. Harry could have sworn that one of the less decomposed ones looked like Sirius, and his flame faltered when he looked at the maggot-ridden flesh that was so similar in appearance to that of the family that he never really had. Harry's face set in anger, and from his wand burst forth creatures of flame which leaped from inferius to inferius, devouring all. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow tiredly at his display of silent dark magic, but didn't mention anything as Harry helped him out onto the side, supporting him with an arm around the older man's shoulders. Harry wiped some blood from a grazed knee onto the entranceway, and stepped out into the freezing air where he conjured a chair and a blanket, which he wrapped around Dumbledore. A new goblet and a jug of water appeared beside the chair, and Harry gave Dumbledore a hand with drinking the cold liquid until the man could do it himself.

They swam back through the narrow channel, and as soon as Harry felt the presence of the wards lift he clasped his hand more tightly around Dumbledore and twisted through space into the equally cold air of Scotland.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Dumbledore staggered, and Harry barely managed to catch the man. He looked up to the castle and his jaw set, as he saw the snake and skull emblem of Voldemort's design hanging over the castle like a noxious cloud. Harry flicked his wand, and seconds later his broom appeared beside him. He pulled Dumbledore onto the broom, then mounted it behind him, kicking off and accelerating as fast as he could. As they drew closer, Harry began to hear explosions that rocked the castle, and he saw flashes of light through some of the windows. Harry landed on the viewing platform of the astronomy tower, and rushed towards the door, stopping and looking back towards Dumbledore when he heard voices on the stairs. Suddenly he found that he couldn't move, and that he had taken on the precise shade and texture of the walls behind him. The door opened suddenly, and Draco appeared in the threshold.

" _Expelliarmus!_ " he cried, and Dumbledore's wand flew across the room and landed in Draco's free hand. The boy threw it to the side, where it clattered next to Harry's feet.

"Draco, my boy," said Dumbledore, supporting himself against the wall, "you don't have to do this, Draco."

"Shut up. You know nothing."

"I know enough Draco. Let me help you, I can hide you from him."

"And my mother? Would you hide her? How would you even do that when she is currently right beside him? He would kill her as soon as he learned any hint to tretchary, so no, sir, I do have to do this. I have no choice."

"There's always a choice, Draco." Dumbledore spoke softly, sliding a little further down the wall.

The door opened again, and Dolohov appeared in the doorway, flanked by the twin Carrows, and followed by Greyback.

"Ah, Fenrir, so good to see you. I take it you are no longer waiting for the full moon to prey on children?"

"You know me, old man, I constantly crave the taste of the young and supple." The werewolf ligked his lips gruesomely as he spoke, and flexed his fingers to show off the yellowed talons that curved from the tips.

"Delightful." Dumbledore was now sitting on the floor with his back resting against the wall. Snape swept into the room, glancing around and pausing when he somehow saw Harry through the disillusionment.

"I've created a ward scheme that ought to hold them for some time, but we must be quick."

"Well, Draco, finish the job and we'll be gone." Dolohov spoke in a deep voice that bordered on a growl, but Draco's wand was held loosely in his hand, not quite pointing at Dumbledore, who had risen to his feet when Snape entered the room.

"Severus, please." For the first time, Dumbledore sounded broken, and his quiet pleading with Snape was what scared Harry the most. Harry felt the familiar thrill of danger as the man stepped forwards.

" _Avada kedavra._ " Snape's voice was more resigned than triumphant, and Harry swore that he saw a look of relief pass over Dumbledore's face as the enchantments holding him in place broke. Dumbledore's body fell back over the railing around the tower, and sailed down to the ground far below.

"We must leave now. Come." Dolohov rumbled, nearly running from the room, followed by the other death eaters. Harry shook himself and followed as quickly as he could.

Below the astronomy tower, the castle was in chaos, with thick clouds of dust filling the air and angry jets of light piercing the fog. Shouts and screams punctured the air, and the castle rocked periodically from explosions that reverberated throughout. Harry ran after the pack of death eaters as they ran out towards the entrance hall. Harry shot spells at them from his wand, but all of them seemed to miss or be deflected, and so Harry followed them. Harry sprinted out of the castle, running past Hal, who was surrounded by a ring of corpses all clad in the dark robes of death eaters, and over the grass littered with fragments of bone and giblets of flesh. Harry ran past Hagrid's smouldering ruin of a hut, and watched powerless as Snape and the other death eaters reached the treeline and vanished. A shout of rage and frustration burst out of Harry, and the trees nearest to him immediately withered and died. The grass around him in a ring was blackened and dead looking, with his burst of magic, and the sky appeared to darken while his shout lasted.

After a time, Harry didn't know how long, Hal appeared next to him, and sat on the withered grass next to Harry.

"They attacked not long after you left, maybe half an hour. The teachers and the older students tried to defend, but… You know how it goes when the untrained fight. Fortunately, the order of the phoenix showed up after maybe fifteen minutes, followed closely by the aurors, but there were so many of them. Daph and I tried to defend the entrance hall, and we did a good job, but a small group of them flanked us. Daph and Susan split off from me to protect the dormitories along with the teachers, while I held back the tide.

"They had werewolves, Harry. We're so lucky it's not a full moon otherwise we'd have lost a lot more people than we did. As it was, we lost twelve students and professor Vector," his voice broke as he spoke of his favourite teacher's death, "They knew you'd gone. That's why they attacked; to prepare an ambush for your return. Dumbledore-"

"Dumbledore's dead." A moment's silence passed between the two wizards, stretching out and enveloping them in its suffocating embrace.

"That's… Unexpected." A phoenix landed on the grass before them, and trilled a soft and comforting note, nudging Hal's hand with its large beak. Hal idly retrieved a vial from a pocket of his robes, and Fawkes dripped tears into it, filling it halfway before the huge bird clicked at them and took flight, filling the air with a haunting melody that spoke of a lifelong bond forever ripped apart.

"Everything's going to change now." said Harry, not requiring an answer. "I'm not coming back here next year. I'm going to find the last horcrux and end this once and for all. If I die in the process, then I will die, but this goal is worth my life's price."

"You don't seriously think I'd let you go alone, do you? You know that Daphne and Susan would never forgive you. Come to think of it, I wouldn't forgive you. Spend the summer with me, try and relax. It's likely the last chance you'll get to properly relax until the bastard's dead." Hal wrapped his left arm around Harry's shoulders to reassure him. Harry nodded once and wiped his eyes angrily.

"Voldemort's going to die, and I'm going to be the one that does it."

AN

This chapter is both my longest, at 8200 words, and my largest departure from canon yet. Admittedly, I haven't actually made _that_ many departures from the original storyline, but in this one I had to justify my older choices and come up with ways for things to play out roughly the same despite all of the differences.

I'm unsure about how to continue the story from here on out, as there will likely be very little canon-like events, other than the battle for Hogwarts, which was too important to simply be ignored. I have some ideas for possible continuation after the death of Voldemort, but we'll see how it plays out.

Roughly 4% of people who have viewed my story have followed and/or favorited it, and so I'm quite happy with those figures. I'd have written even if nobody read it, but the fact that i have even a small audience makes it more rewarding.

Anyway, if you want to have some input into the story then leave a message or review and I might take it into account, provided it doesn't conflict too much with my current ideas.

/AN


	10. Chapter 10

AN

I've made it so that the death eaters cast the dark mark before they enter the house where they kill, rather than after. You'll see why it's plot relevant.

/AN

Hal tilted his head to the side, relishing the series of pops that he heard and the feeling of relief that came with them. Next to him, Daphne grinned at the shocked look that some pureblood's wife gave him at the abrupt sound. The pair were seated in an enormous marquee in the Bones traditional manor house, attending the wedding of Madam Bones to a childhood beau of hers that few had heard of before. They were more here in solidarity with Susan, who had been roped into being the maid of honour, and true to expectation they were finding the ceremony incredibly boring. Hal was jiggling his leg up and down out of boredom and restless energy, slouching in his seat without caring about the filthy looks that the more traditionalist guests were shooting his way. Harry was dressed in an incredibly expensive muggle suit that he'd specifically chosen to annoy such people in an act of subtle rebellion, in addition to the fact that it was infinitely more practical than the voluminous and flowing robes that most wizards wore at such events. Daphne had been annoyed by the fact that the female options for witches were so much more in line with the muggle expectations, as she was not annoying anyone with her soft green summery dress, and was left fuming by the number and fashion of the looks that she had been catching from some of the guests.

To Hal's other side was Harry, who looked almost as bored as Hal did, and was currently cleaning his nails as the wizard officiating the marriage droned on about magical bonds between souls or something. Occasionally he would glance up and grin as he found Susan's eyes, who was sitting right at the front due to her status as maid of honour and also as family of the bride. Finally, the official raised his wand over the pair and pronounced them as married with a spray of confetti from his wand. Hal joined in the clapping as the newly married couple kissed, thinking back over the events of the previous day, when Daphne's father had called Harry over to their house, where he had apparently read Dumbledore's will to him. Harry had apparently received an old snitch, a book of fairy tales, and a good dose of confusion. Hal, meanwhile, had received threats from the family about what would happen to him if he hurt Daphne, if he got her pregnant, or if he harmed the family's honour.

After the vows had been read and the chairs had rearranged themselves around small circular tables, the guests were treated to an exquisite spread put on by the family's house elves. During that particular meal, Hal and Daphne had been seated on a table along with a middle-aged looking couple that had the usual air of superiority that purebloods usually developed around the age of twelve. Throughout all of the conversation, the couple had managed to keep pace with Hal even when he had deliberately tried to steer the conversation towards his incredibly advanced arithmancy, something which annoyed him to no end, almost as much as the infuriating glint in the eye of the older man.

"What did you say you did again?" he asked them.

"We didn't. We're alchemists by trade, and possesing of some meagre skill in arithmancy too."

"You call an intuitive understanding of the bleeding edge of the field 'some meagre skill'?" Hal spoke with incredulity laced through his voice.

"Well, when you've been around for as long as we have, you see a bit of everything. I had to become proficient in the mathematics of magic for one of my creations in particular that was being a little... difficult to produce." Daphne narrowed her eyes.

"You're the Flamels, aren't you?" she said, in a hushed tone. The woman nodded with a smile on her face. Hal grinned.

"We don't tend to get out too much, but Amelia's a friend. We'd appreciate you not telling anyone else about our presence, we try to keep a low profile. Sorry for my husband, mr Slytherin, he's been around for literally nine hundred years by this point, so he tends to be a little condescending, even when someone proves that they know more about a subject than he does. In fact, especially then." Hal frowned at the use of the name Slytherin.

"How old are you? You used the name Slytherin for me, but that ancestry isn't public knowledge." Nicholas chuckled.

"I used Slytherin for two reasons. First, because we know that ancestry. And second, because you're the spitting image of a young Salazar. I was a student at Hogwarts when the founders were still teaching, and I became a close friend to Salazar in my later years. In fact, he was the one who helped me when I created my famous elixir."

"Dumbledore said you destroyed the stone. That you'd died." Perenelle snorted.

"As if we'd live nearly a thousand years and not have a backup. As if in all that time we've never had someone try to steal the stone from us."

"Anyway, the two of you showed promise. If you wanted some tutoring in any subject I'd be more than willing to provide the-" He cut off abruptly, seeing a misty blue ball of an incorporeal patronus settle in the center of the room. The deep, reassuring voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt rang out through the room, with a note of panic creeping in at the edge of his tone.

" _ **The ministry has fallen. The minister is dead. They are coming. Run."**_

The world within the marquee froze, all conversation stopping abruptly. Suddenly a ring of colour exploded from the perimeter of the tent, signalling the falling of the anti-apparation wards, coupled by an array of cracks from just within the tent, revealing a horde of wizards in death eater robes who raised their wands as one. Hal didn't wait to act, and before any spell could be cast, he was on his feet, wand in hand. A ring of green flashes surrounded him, impacting the diners towards the top of the tent, near the high table. Five death eaters fell to Hal's furious spellcasting, opening up a hole in the circle through which guests began to flee, forgetting on the whole that they could apparate. Harry pushed through the crowd, reaching the head table and grabbing Susan by the arm. He twisted through space and vanished. Hal saw the majority of those remaining begin to realise that they could now apparate away and begin to vanish, and he saw the two Flamels raise a hand before they too disappeared. Hal and Daphne shot another volley of curses at the death eaters, taking many of them down permanently, but a fresh array of cracks spelt disaster for them. Hal took Daphne's elbow and twisted away, appearing in the study of his safe house. Daphne walked over to the sofa and slumped down into it, choking back a sob and hiding her face with her hands. Hal sat next to her, and hugged her into his chest, silently holding her as she mourned her father.

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"What's the damage?" asked Hal, as Harry came into the safehouse carrying a newspaper and wearing a scowl on his face. A week had passed since the wedding fiasco, and the ministry was only just releasing the deaths and damages that had come from the event.

"Madam Bones, Scrimgeour, and around half of the senior members of the DMLE have been killed, along with roughly half of the auror corps being laid off or disappearing under mysterious circumstances. Voldemort's puppet has been 'elected' minister, along with several death eaters that have resurfaced. There's a register for all muggle born witches and wizards that is compulsory to sign up to, but of those who have signed up, nearly half of them are missing under suspicious circumstances. The ministry is putting pressure on the prophet to spin this, but seeing as you own a majority share they're barely cooperating.

"Also, there's a taboo on Tom's name, we can't say his chosen one without a squad of 'eaters showing up to kill us. There's a warrant out for both of our arrests, mine under the guise of wanting to question me about Dumbledore's death, and yours is for the death of the twelve death eaters that died at the wedding. Daph's wanted too." Hal rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and groaned.

"How did things get so bad so fast?" said Hal. Daphne and Susan joined them as they moved into the kitchen and slumped down into chairs at the table. Hal waved his hand, and four butterbeers flew from the chilled cupboard onto the table.

"This time, Riddle had men on the inside of the ministry, even more so than last time. Whereas before they merely had positions as unimportant individuals in the various departments, now they had incredible influence all over the place, meaning that they were primed and ready for a rapid takeover as soon as their master gave the word." Daphne spoke in an efficient manner, with a flat tone.

"Well, we still need to get the final horcrux, whatever it may be," Hal took a swig from his bottle, "You said it was likely the cup of Hufflepuff?"

"Yeah, Riddle got the cup at the same time as the locket, but I don't know where it would be. I doubt it would be abroad anywhere, nor do I think it'd be at Hogwarts."

"So we need to figure out what famous battles and any important places or events in Vol- _Riddle's_ life." Susan caught herself halfway through saying the dark wizard's name

"Yeah, but where the hell would we start with that?"

"Well, maybe he left one in Godric's Hollow?"

"No, that was the place where he met with his worst defeat."

"We also need to try and respond to the attacks that the death eaters are carrying out. I can't stand by and watch while Riddle terrorises the people of magical Britain." Hal spoke, leaving no room for argument, not that any of the others would have argued with him.

"Agreed. You have that enchanted map still, right? The one that shows the location of wherever someone shoots the dark mark into the sky?" Daphne shifted so that her feet rested on Hal's lap as she spoke, and Hal's hand came down and gently squeezed one of them.

"Yeah, it was the last thing I got from my vault before I was cut off by being wanted for murder." Harry growled at the thought of his ancestral vault being closed off from him. Susan's mouth dropped open.

"Hey, that's a place he could have kept it. A Gringotts vault. Many of his followers were old, rich families and so it wouldn't be too much of a stretch for him to have put the cup in the vault of his most fanatical and trusted followers." The other three froze as they understood her words.

"Dolohov's vault is near the surface, he wouldn't use that one." Hal provided.

"He already gave the Malfoys that diary, so he wouldn't trust them with a second horcrux." Harry continued.

"The Carrows are famous for misplacing and losing things, and they're not stable enough to secure something properly; he wouldn't trust them with a seventh of his soul." Daphne followed their train of thought.

"Then that leaves the Lestranges. They are the last of the old inner circle that remains loyal and actually has a vault in Gringotts."

"Harry… You inherited the Lestrange fortune after the line died off due to you being heir Black. The cup is almost certainly in your vault." Harry paled at her words and slapped the table in frustration.

"I can't access my vault. I'm supposedly a wanted killer."

"Hey, the goblins aren't going to let anyone else into the vault either, so we don't have to worry about the cup being stolen from the vault at least."

"All it means is that we're going to have to break into Gringotts." said Hal, causing Daphne to groan beside him.

"Something which nobody has ever successfully done, not to mention the fact that the Potter vault is literally the oldest and best guarded still active vault in the entire bank."

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

" _Morsmordre!_ " shouted a death eater, sending the dark mark into the air. The air around them seemed to chill as they stood outside the Burrow which held the remnants of Dumbledore's staunchest supporters. The wards around the ramshackle house fell within seconds, and the squad of death eaters surged forwards to fulfil their master's orders and wipe out the most prevalent branch of this old wizarding family.

Behind them, they heard a soft snap, and the seven death eaters turned to see a hooded figure join them in the driveway leading to the house. A violet glow from within the hood of the figure provided light for the scene, staining the masks of the assembled death eaters a soft purple. Rookwood, who was leading the group, swallowed softly, knowing that death awaited him should he stay but torture waited for him if he fled. He gripped his wand tightly and spoke with false confidence.

"Leave this place, you are not required." The shade turned its head towards the man, and Rookwood dropped his gaze as he felt an immense pressure crush upon his occlumency shields.

"Well, well, Rookwood. It seems Tom is sending his best to corral his weakest into doing his dirty work. Surely he values you as more than a babysitter." One of the newly marked death eaters shot a jet of twisting grey light at the shrouded figure, but before the jet could touch the man it stopped and hovered in midair as though the air in front of it had become solid. The figure turned towards the man who had fired the beam at him and tutted softly. The man collapsed to the floor, screaming and clutching his head, dropping his wand as he fell. The shadow chuckled.

"His mind was weak. Now it is broken, which was disappointingly easy." The six remaining death eaters raised their wands, and began to fire curses at their assailant, but the figure was no longer standing where they were firing, and appeared behind them, apparating in perfect silence and cutting down two death eaters. Rookwood turned on the spot, trying to disappear from his current location, but lost his footing when he hit the rock-solid wall of an anti-apparation ward that had certainly not been there when the figure had appeared. He landed in the mud next to half of another death eater's head.

Rookwood realised that he was now alone other than the figure who was floating a couple of inches above the ground to avoid the mud which covered Rookwood. The man grabbed his wand and flung the most lethal spells he knew at the figure looming above him, but none of them hit. He got to his feet and took u a duelling position, throwing his most powerful curses and spells at the shade, who lazily batted them away or dodged them. The ground dried and hardened as the heat of the raw magic being channeled caused the water within the mud to evaporate. The shade didn't bother to even return fire, allowing Rookwood to exhaust himself with the pace and magnitude of the magic he was using. The death eater gritted his teeth and resolved himself to complete his next action. Rookwood lifted his wand high and then brought it down, letting out a fan of golden light from a forbidden book buried deep within the department of mysteries. The shaft of ash that he was holding burned into cinders, unable to withstand the amount of magic that was flowing through it. Rookwood's long greasy hair whipped around his face in the wind caused by the forbidden spell. The figure let out a low chuckle, as he had simply disapparated from the path of the spell and reappeared behind Rookwood.

"Your spell repertoire is impressive, but I would expect nothing less from an unspeakable. Now, hold still, or this will hurt more."

Rookwood bit back a scream and collapsed again as a presence pushed past his mental defences, shredding them on its way in. The figure perused the man's memories, ripping out any useful information, uncaring about the state that he left in Rookwood's mind. Finally, he was done, and the former unspeakable was left as a quivering mass of tears, absorbed in his own pain and the sensations left by the systematic obliteration of his mind. A simple flash of green lit the scene, and the figure casually floated away.

"Voldemort." said the figure, allowing the squad of death eaters to see him before he disapparated through the wards that had been thrown up as soon as the taboo triggered, leaving the seven fresh dark wizards to clean up the remains of their unfortunate brethren.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

 **Death toll rises as mysterious figures murder Government agents**

 **By Rita Skeeter**

 **Life here in magical Britain has changed drastically over the past few months, with a complete change in governance leading to a set of far more stringent laws and regulations surrounding our personal liberties and freedoms. For example, it is no longer legal, as it once was, to home-educate your child. Those who do not respect the new laws have been met with fairly severe consequences, facing time in Azkaban or worse at the hands of snatcher gangs, aurors, and even death eaters. Recently, however, the latter of the three groups has come under fire, reporting heavy casualty rates as they attempt to complete whatever nebulous task they have been assigned. One survivor reported a robed and shrouded figure, characterised by a violet glow and hovering above the ground as they laid waste to the most fearsome death eaters, while another reported a pair of figures who fought as one, destroying any death eaters they find.**

 **Your loyal journalist has been unable to find any other evidence for or against the existence of this resistance movement, but I urge any member of the public to not assist, aid, or abet these people in any way because one of the few guarantees we can give is that they are dangerous. Not to mention the fact that the ministry has placed an arrest warrant for them as well as any who aid them, despite the fact that all those killed have sworn loyalty to the darkest and most feared dark wizard since Morgana herself.**

 **Stay safe, dear readers, in this troubled time, but never forget to live.**

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Hal, Daphne, and Susan were sitting at the hardwood table in the safe house, eating a plate of sandwiches that Pinky had made for them and poring over the most incomplete set of specifications that any of them had ever seen. The Gringotts goblins surely had better copies of the plans than this, but it was evident that they hadn't deigned to share them with the wizards. Whoever had tried to get the plans had certainly been exasperated enough with the whole process that they had been happy with the poor excuse for a schematic that they had received. Either way, it was supremely unhelpful when you were trying to plan a heist of the most secure bank in the entire world, magical or otherwise. It certainly did not help that the vault they had to break into was the one at the lowest level, guarded by a host of magical constructs and an array of magical creatures. Plan after plan had been suggested, and all had been discarded after Hal and Daphne had picked them apart. Polyjuice had been ruled out very early, despite the fact that Hal had brewed a huge vat of the stuff, along with a dangerous amount of luck potion. They would almost certainly need the small golden vials if they were going to be successful in their heist, seeing as they would be effectively pitting their skills against the entirety of the might of the goblin race.

Suddenly, they heard Harry's shout from the hall, and the three of them leaped up and rushed to help him. Hal swore as he saw his friend's eyes glowing silver with his side cleaved open, and holding half a wand in his hand. He seized him by the shoulders and carried him into the kitchen where Susan packed all of the papers from the table in an instant using magic. Harry winced as they placed him on the table.

"He was there. H-he knows how we're tracking them. It was purely an ambush." Hal raised an eyebrow and cut off his friend's robes, exposing the wound that was pouring blood at an alarming rate. Hal's eyes glowed violet with his magic that constantly bubbled so close to the surface. The wound began to slow its bleeding, with Hal's lips moving constantly in an attempt to counter the dark curse. Susan was cleaning and closing the other wounds that Harry had sustained, a panicked expression on her face as she kept Harry from falling asleep. Daphne was healing as much of the burns that spread across his left side as well as she could, cleansing the dark magical residue from his body as she went. Finally, Hal holstered his wand and wiped the blood from his hands. His eyes faded back to his normal grey and he groaned in frustration. Daphne threw herself into a chair, vanishing the blood and ointment from her hands rubbing her head. Harry was now asleep, his condition stable.

"It was bound to happen eventually. Riddle's evil, not stupid." Daphne said.

"I know, I just wish…"

"That it'd been you?" Daphne accused, "That you were the one to face an irate dark lord and his army of minions? I don't care how strong you are, that's suicide no matter who you are." Hal hung his head as he sat next to Daphne and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her into his lap. He leaned his forehead against the back of her neck.

"I just wish I could have helped." Daphne sighed.

"I know. It's leading to a confrontation anyway. Harry's always going to have to be the one that kills the bastard, all we can do is make sure that we're there to draw fire for him."

"Why is it us? Why couldn't we have just had a normal life?"

"We befriended a child of prophecy. We lost the chance for normality as soon as he walked into the compartment in our first year. Besides, you wouldn't change anything, would you?" Hal shook his head.

"What happens after Riddle dies?" Hal asked.

"We mourn the dead, and those whose lives were ruined by Voldemort."

"And after that?"

"We live."

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

"Talk me through the plan again." said Harry. A few months had passed, and Christmas had come and then gone again.

"First we get you a new wand. No offence, but your mother's is awful in your hand."

"Where? Ollivander's is closed." Hal chuckled slightly.

"Ollivander's isn't the only place to get a wand, nor is it the best place. I'm using an ancient wand that's been in the family since before we were called Selwyn, and Daph's wand was commissioned by a skilled wandmaker in knockturn alley. He's a friend, and he hates Riddle as much as we do. We can trust him."

"What then?"

"After that, we disguise ourselves as a regular group of people, or rather you disguise yourself. The ministry has dropped charges against Daphne, Susan, and I due to 'financial contributions' The only charges against us are non-attendance at Hogwarts, and the snatchers aren't even bothering to collect those bounties. After that, I go and try to gain access to a vault that I opened in a false name in our fourth year. You come with us as the goblins take me to that vault, then we imperuse them and get them to take us down to the Potter vault. We'll need to construct a replica of Gringotts clangers to get past the dragon, and we'll make the goblins deactivate the constructs to allow us past. Then you open the Potter vault and we get the cup. If all goes well, we can just get the goblins to take us back to the vault that we're supposed to be accessing and then we can obliviate them and release the imperio. Then it should be a simple case of walking out of the bank. As far as they know, there's nothing illegal or even suspicious about what we did." Daphne took over Hal's explanation.

"And you seriously expect this plan to work?" Harry asked incredulously.

"No. It has the least chance of absolute failure, and an acceptable chance of minor failure. All we need to do is ensure we are not caught by anyone on our way to the vault that we're supposed to go to."

"Why can't we just go to the Selwyn vault and then imperuse the goblins there?"

"Because if we go down to the lowest level it is bank policy to require identification from all of the people going. We cannot leave a paper trail for Voldemort to follow, as we need to have the element of surprise when it comes time for the big confrontation."

"How are you going to disguise me if not with polyjuice?"

"Glamours, one to hide your scar, one to change your hair, and several to alter the facial structure and skin tone. You'll be unrecognisable." Daphne filled in for Hal.

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Rain hammered into the cobbled streets of Diagon alley as three hooded figures appeared in the designated apparation point, before they fell into a line and began walking briskly towards whatever destination they had in mind. Within seconds, each of their cloaks was soaked through, and a wand appeared in the hand of the tallest of the group, casting a spell of each of the three which made the rain bounce off of the fabric rather than become absorbed into the cloth.

The trio turned into Knockturn alley, where the streets were so narrow and the flanking buildings so tall that no rain reached the cobbles below. A short distance into the seedy alley, and they walked into a nondescript shop, turning the sign on the door from open to closed as they entered. The windows stopped functioning, merely displaying a still image of the shop interior, and all noise reaching the outside from within was garbled and incoherent.

"Mr Stevens, I require your services once again." Hal spoke softly, and a man appeared behind the counter, with a thin face and jet black hair, covered by an old and stained leather apron.

"I presume you know what I do." he said. Hal pulled back the hood of his cloak, and the man behind the counter smirked. "Always a fan of theatricality, Mr Selwyn."

"My friend here needs a wand. But nobody must ever know that you made one, and nobody must ever know who he is."

"To craft their wand, I must know who they are."

"But nobody else must know. I will offer you an additional fifty percent if you allow me to obliviate you after the process is over."

"Fifty. I know you can afford it, but is this person's identity really so valuable?" Harry pulled back the hood of his own cloak, following suit with Daphne and Hal. "Ah, that would do it."

The man bustled about, collecting tools, ingredients and the reagents he required to make the magical tool.

"I presume you want another core with venom infusion?" said the man, and Hal nodded. The man gestured while he worked, and a small tape measure began to take Harry's measurements in a similar way to the one that Ollivander had used at the start of his schooling career. Finally, the man seemed ready, he took a drop of blood from Harry's finger, and chanted over it, infusing it with pure magic. He then waved it over a vast selection of woods, first choosing the family of tree, then the subfamily, then the specific wood or pair of woods. Harry's blood responded most vigorously to both the holly and the ebony, and so the man took a strip of each. He then repeated the process for a number of the more common cores for wands, followed by the less common ones when Harry's blood failed to respond to any of them. The blood seemed to choose an occamy feather, and so the man took a particularly long and strong looking feather and set it aside before he packed the rest of his items away. Hal brought out a vial of liquid, and set it on the counter, causing the man's eyes to widen at the softly glowing fluid.

"Phoenix tears? Yes that would work incredibly well." He brought the droplet of blood close to the vial, and the blood immediately evaporated, leaving a small burn mark on the wooden spatula that the man had been moving the blood around with.

The tape measure flew back to the man, and appeared to whisper into his ear, before he cut the bits of wood to the same length, hollowing out a channel through the middle for the core. He took the vial of tears, and carefully poured as little as he could get away with into the channel, not wasting a drop of the second most valuable substance in the wizarding world after chunks of a philosopher's stone. He then twisted the feather until it was a mere line and laid it into the recess before placing the ebony half of the wand on top and channeling his magic into it once again. The two bits of wood sealed into one piece, and hardened as wands do so as to avoid accidental breakage. Once a wand chose a person, it used a part of their own magic to prevent damage. The man then muttered another spell, and the wand became floppy and malleable, and he twisted it around to reduce the length, increase the strength, and create a interesting spiral of contrasting colours running up and down the length of the wand. Satisfied, the man cancelled the spell, returning the wood to its original texture but keeping the new shape, and handed it to Harry. Harry flicked the wand, sending a shower of red sparks dancing throughout the shop, and grinned at Hal. Hal pulled out a money bag, and placed it on the countertop. Harry replaced his hood and stowed his new wand in his holster while Hal obliviated the man and collected the vial of phoenix tears. The three left, locking the door behind them so that the man would not be disturbed or robbed while he slept. Daphne pulled Harry into a side street, and applied the glamours to his face, making his nose larger, his skin more tanned, his hair longer and decidedly red in colour, and turning his eyes from their trademark green to a piercing blue. She nodded after a minute, satisfied that he would not be recognised, and they made their way back into the main alley, heading towards the bank.

Hal inclined his head at the pair of goblin guards standing outside the bank, before frowning at the pair of wizards that ran golden probes over their bodies. Eventually they were allowed in to the bank, which was relatively busy due to the easter holidays being in effect, and as such the human guards were flustered and overworked. Hal, Harry, and Daphne joined the shortest line leading to a goblin, and waited in tense silence until they were served.

"Greetings, master goblin. I wish to access my vault."

"Greetings, young human, I am Quickblade. I shall require your name and vault key, along with the answer to your security question."

"I am Andrew Smiths, master Quickblade," Hal placed his golden key on the countertop, "My answer is the fifteenth of October."

"Very well, a teller will be along shortly to show you to your vault. Are these people to accompany you?"

"Yes, my companions will join me."

"In that case, a second goblin is required. Bank policy, I'm afraid." The goblin bowed to Hal, who returned the gesture, and a pair of goblins came over to them and led them to the cart.

" _Imperio!_ " said Hal and Daphne at the same time. The goblins showed no reaction, which was good, as they would surely have shouted for help if the curse had failed. They stopped off at the vault that they were supposed to be visiting, and Hal placed several large bags of gold into a pouch that was far too small to hold it all, but that was charmed to be larger and lighter inside. They then climbed back into the cart, and took off once more down the rails, plummeting past caverns and rock features, exhausted veins of gold and other minerals, and uncountable numbers of vaults. The cart slowed slightly as the track levelled out, and they hurtled past a waterfall that covered an alternate section of track. A dull roar echoed up from the depths of the bank, and the goblin controlling the cart shook slightly, fighting the imperius curse out of fear. The floor of the bank, where the air was noticeably warmer, rushed up to meet them, threatening to impale them on the protruding stalagmites and crystalline structures. The cart twisted and levelled off, slowing rapidly as they reached the very lowest level of the bank, where the marble was less than pristine due to the dragon guarding the vaults. Hal slipped the replica of the clanker out of his pocket and shook it vigorously, causing the dragon to whine and retreat in fear of the promised pain.

Eighteen vaults stood arrayed in a circle, each with a varying coat of arms emblazoned upon it. Harry walked up to the one with a stylised representation of an invisibility cloak, and pressed his hand onto the golden surface of the door, which melted away at the contact. Harry lit his wand and listened, hearing the soft screeching that he knew the horcruxes made. Harry moved further into the vault, before he heard the noise. He saw the small cup, standing on a shelf towards the back of the vault, and collected it, placing it into his magically enlarged pouch which he then sealed. Harry collected a few bags of money from his vault and left, rejoining the others outside as the door resealed behind him.

"I got it. Should we destroy it here?"

"Yeah, it's just a case of hitting it with an avada kedavra to strip the soul fragment from the container, then we can go about removing any distasteful enchantments that Riddle's put on it." Harry nodded before pulling out the cup and placing it on the floor in front of him. The harsh ringing sound grew louder and more intense, rivaling the continued rattle of the clankers.

" _Avada Kedavra!_ " Harry's wand lit up with a green glow and the screech of the horcrux immediately fell silent. Harry nudged the cup with his toe, nodding as precisely nothing happened and placing the cup back inside the pouch. The three humans and the pair of goblins got back into the cart, and sped off towards the vault that they'd been authorised to visit once again.

Once they arrived back at the other vault, they obliviated the two goblins and released them from the imperius curse, before reviving them and reentering the cart. Both of the goblins appeared troubled, but neither of them said anything or acted to stop the three of them, and so nearly half an hour after entering the bank proper, they were back in the lobby and moving towards the outside.

"Hang on," said a familiar voice, and Hal cursed as Draco recognised them, "STOP THEM!" he shouted, and the wizards guarding the entrance turned and raised their wands. The three of them skidded to a halt, not relishing the prospect of a firefight in a crowded lobby.

"If that's Greengrass, and that's Selwyn, then the other one is Potter." Draco shouted from somewhere behind them, advancing forwards with his wand raised. Hal cleared his throat nervously.

"We're just leaving. I don't want any trouble, or any kind of fight. I just want to leave the bank." Harry felt his scar burn and hissed to Hal that someone had summoned their master. Hal's eyes widened, and he stunned two of the guards in front of him, making a dash for the entrance as he felt powerful anti-apparation wards rise around the alley. Draco shot a spell at them, but Harry turned and deflected it into the floor, before he disarmed Draco and caught the boy's wand. Daphne and Hal had punched a hole in the defences of the bank, and Harry rushed to follow them out into the driving rain.

"Harry, put your cloak on. If Riddle's here he's less likely to merely kill us for no reason, but if he sees you…" Harry nodded and ducked into a side street and flung the cloak over himself. Hal stiffened as he felt a presence behind him. He turned along with Daphne to see the man in question striding towards them, his wand held casually in his hand.

"Harold Selwyn, and Daphne Greengrass. My, my, the two greatest students in your year, or so I am told. Tell me, why have you not been at Hogwarts this year?"

"My lord, we have been attending Beauxbatons school of sorcery for our final year. We changed after the death of Dumbledore, we no longer felt safe at Hogwarts."

"Understandable, perhaps. Lord Voldemort is understanding, but you shall be attending Hogwarts for the remainder of the year. It is the law, after all."

"Yes, my Lord, thank you for your mercy."

"Now, where is Potter?"

"I-I'm unsure about what you could mean."

"Don't take me for a fool. I have been informed that the three of you are pretty much inseparable. Where is he?"

A jet of gold shot towards Voldemort from the side, and Harry appeared from under the cloak where the jet had originated from. The dark lord deflected the light towards Hal and Daphne, who casually batted it into the ground, where it blew a section of the street into shards of stone and mortar. Voldemort returned fire furiously at Harry, who was instantly on the defensive as death eaters and hit wizards poured from alleyways to join the fight. Hal erected a glowing shield around Harry and Voldemort to prevent the overwhelming numbers from aiding the combat that was taking place within. Hal and Daphne took up positions back to back, and with the side of the dome to their left to prevent attack from that angle.

For each death eater that fell or hit wizard injured, two took their place. Within a very short space of time the numbers against the trio became insurmountable. Hal risked a glance to the interior of the dome, and saw Harry furiously battling Voldemort. The floor level within the glowing shield had sunk by a few centimeters due to the fury of their duel, and the center of the circle that the pair traced out with their pacing was glowing a dull red with the power being dissipated through the ground. Hal's attention was violently reverted to his own assailants as one hit him with a weak cutting curse across the shoulder. Hal grunted, and the man in question vanished in a pillar of gore, exploding outwards and wounding many around him as shards of the man's bones turned into lethal shrapnel. Hal and Daphne stopped sparing the lives of those that they were fighting, and the pace of the battle increased. The street became slick with blood, and the shop fronts around the combat were razed into dust and ashes as every missed spell tore a chunk out of the brickwork.

Still the numbers flowed into combat, delayed somewhat by their own anti-apparation wards. Hal swore again.

"Daphne, we need to get that ward down, or they'll kill us eventually." The girl nodded, and Hal began to play defensively, deflecting incoming spells back outwards as Daphne kneeled down to break the ward preventing them from leaving. The golden dome surrounding Harry and Voldemort had huge cracks in it, not from those outside trying to break in, but from each deflected spell from within leaving its mark. Both Harry and the dark lord were hovering above the ground by this point, and each of their eyes were filled with a near blinding light, Harry's glowing his usual silver, and Voldemort's glowing crimson as he tried to kill Harry with all of his strength. The center of the circle was now comprised of molten rock, as the heat from their magic had melted the cobbles. Hal yelled out in desperation as another spell slipped past his guard, opening up a cruel line over his stomach. Black flames billowed from Hal's wand, flowing out and hitting against the shield, and consuming the first few ranks of their assailants, but it took all of Hal's concentration to even keep the cursed fire under his control.

Suddenly, the pressure on his magic lifted as the ward broke, and Hal dropped his golden dome before he released one last wisp of flame and turned through space, staggering into the entrance hall of the safehouse and collapsing from exhaustion. Daphne and Harry followed him less than a second later, and Susan shrieked as she saw the state that they were in, pulling out her wand and frantically trying to heal their injuries.

AN

Notes:

The Gringotts plan:

With some forethought and identities that would not instantly warrant arrest it would be easier to break into gringotts and then escape afterwards. That's what you saw here. If Draco hadn't recognised them then they would have gotten away with it a lot more easily.

Susan not accompanying them:

Susan chose to remain behind. She does not want to fight, even if she'd do it to save her life, and her going would have been an unnecessary risk that she didn't want to take.

Harry:

He was defeated soundly by Voldemort only when he had the element of surprise due to Harry walking into an ambush. Also, during the ambush Harry would have been outnumbered. He also lost his wand during that ambush (it broke.) Therefore, when it was a one on one fight between him and Voldemort it would be reasonable to say that it would be a lot closer.

Hal's preparations:

He's a careful Slytherin, who's always been incredible at chess. He would plan for almost every eventuality, hence why the plot device of him having set up an alternate bank vault in his fourth year wouldn't be unreasonable.

Thanks for reading.

/AN


	11. Chapter 11

AN

Forgot to mention the felix during the bank heist. Assume they took it, and then it wore off in the lobby. Alternatively, use it as a handy explanation for them being able to face off impossible odds.

/AN

Draco Malfoy shuddered softly as he strode down the corridors of Hogwarts, keeping a grim mask firmly clamped down on his face as he fought to repress his revulsion at the Carrows and their reign of terror over the school. Malfoy had been made head boy by Snape, something which he had been firmly against despite the man's insistence that he take the position, and due to this position he was forced to oversee and aid the Carrows as they meted out pain to any rule breakers. Malfoy had been brewing as many restorative draughts and pain relieving potions as he could get away with, giving them to the most unfortunate victims as he saw need. It wasn't enough. Malfoy flexed his left forearm, feeling the constant slight pain from his mark that whispered to him as he slept of his duty, his devotion. No wonder Bellatrix had become insane before her death.

"Oi. Malfoy." Draco closed his eyes, turning to see Ron Weasley watching him from the shadows. Draco had a grudging respect for the resistance movement that the boy was leading, despite the pointless and futile nature of the movement. Draco knew that the boy's oldest brother had killed several death eaters when they came knocking to try and use him to control Ron, something which had amused Draco greatly when he had heard the news.

"What do you want? You see, I have many places to be, and very little time for playground insults."

"I wanted to say thank you. You don't have the power to openly resist the Carrows, but you're giving pain potions to as many people as you can. You don't have to do it, so, thanks." Draco raised an eyebrow.

"This is not what I envisioned when I joined the Dark Lord's cause. Not madmen torturing kids. Not killings for fun," Draco's mouth hardened into a line, and Ron's eyebrows raised a fraction.

"I assume the rumors about the rest of Slytherin are true?"

"Worse than you can imagine. I've tried to stop the older ones from taking whatever they want, but a lot of them have taken the mark and don't listen to me anymore. I spent a month warding all the girl's bedrooms in Slytherin, you know. Even that doesn't stop them. They're animals." Ron looked shocked at that.

"Even in Slytherin?" Draco nodded angrily, "I thought it was just a way to assert dominance and make other houses fear them, not molesting within your own house." Draco snorted.

"The baboons came after Pansy. I had to teach them the error of their ways."

"Some sixth year came after Ginny. She said she cursed his nuts off."

"Charming. I still don't know why you're talking to me, Weasley" Ron shifted uneasily at his words.

"I'd really better be going. Wouldn't want the others getting the wrong idea. You're not as bad as they make you out to be, Malfoy."

Draco continued on down the corridor, heading towards the dungeons and the relative quiet of the common room. His mind turned to Harold Selwyn, who had kept the peace in Slytherin through subtle force and demonstrations of power at the right time from his fourth year onwards, to how the boy had clung to Greengrass. They were easily the scariest witch and wizard to come out of Hogwarts in living memory, even Riddle hadn't been so powerful until a decade after leaving the school. Hell, Hal had made groundbreaking discoveries about magic while he was doing everything he could to resist the Dark Lord. It was no secret that Dumbledore had been incredibly concerned about the boy, and had even had Snape attempt to ensure that the boy did not turn into the next and worst Dark Lord.

A muffled sobbing broke Draco's train of thought, and he turned and hurried down the corridor, seeing the wide back of a Slytherin sixth year retreating down the hall from an alcove from which the sobs emanated. Draco looked into the alcove, and his heart hardened at the pitiful sight of a witch with torn and dishevelled robes, with angry marks and bruises covering her arms and face as tears poured from her eyes. The Slytherin sixth year stiffened as Draco's curse hit him, before he turned and walked unsteadily towards them, eyes unfocused. Draco held his wand on the boy, who shuddered as he opened one of the nearby windows, eight stories above the ground. A strangled cry came from the boy, but Draco's rage empowered his spell. The boy disappeared from sight with a scream, which cut off abruptly. Draco turned back to the pitifully mangled Hufflepuff, and conjured a towel and a clean, whole set of robes for her. He turned around as she slowly cleaned herself and dressed in the fresh robes. Her sobs had disappeared, but in place of them was the empty expression of someone whose soul had been crushed utterly. She twisted and fell, but Draco caught her before she could hit the ground, and he wordlessly led her to the hospital wing, still seething with righteous fury as Madam Pomfrey took her from him with a quiet and resigned word of thanks.

Draco soon found himself standing at door to the headmaster's office, listening to the unmistakable voice of Albus Dumbledore conversing with the low drawl of Snape. He knocked, and the voices silenced immediately.

"Enter." Draco swallowed as he opened the heavy wooden door to reveal the dimly lit headmaster's study. "Ah, Draco. Who was it this time?"

"Slater, Sir. I caught him finishing up with a Hufflepuff, or what was left of her."

"You killed him." Draco nodded, and Dumbledore's portrait let out a small sniff.

"These incidents have to stop. I don't care that they've been marked, it's a disgrace to all wizarding society if we let children be assaulted like this."

"You know that I agree. The Dark Lord, on the other hand, prefers his _special minions_ to be allowed to do whatever, or whoever, they wish. It's distasteful, but what can we do about it? The Carrows won't stop this, Amycus even participates, the vile man." Draco began to shake in fury at his words.

"T-that man is-"

"Draco, use your brain for once. Control your emotion. I know how bad it is, but if we are seen to do anything contrary to the Dark Lord's wishes then we'll be killed and replaced by someone worse. The only thing we can do is help victims in whatever small way we can. I presume you made Slater's demise appear accidental?" Draco nodded, "good. Remember, even your father has partaken in more than one such event in the past. I daresay would have some half-siblings if Lucius allowed his victims to live afterwards. This is no game, people can - and do - die. Ensure you are still counted among the living at the end of all of it, and try to not sacrifice those morals that your mother managed to ingrain in the process of survival. Some prices are not worth paying." Snape's eyes took on a worryingly tender look to them as he spoke.

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Hal was seated at the kitchen table, thinking and writing plans upon plans, eventualities for every outcome. Susan and then Harry had tried, and failed, to get him away form the table, upon which were spread papers uncountable, with myriad diagrams and methods for isolating and killing the Dark Lord. His dinner sat beside him, untouched, as his candle burnt and flickered out. Hal looked up in the sudden darkness of the kitchen, before he lit another candle and turned back to his work. He jumped slightly as a hand came to rest on his shoulder. Daphne was standing behind him, a concerned look on her face.

"You've not eaten. Hal, you promised you'd stop this." he looked down in shame, knowing the truth of her words. Her finger touched his chin, raising it up to face her. She sat down in his lap and wrapped her arms around him, and an elf brought a tray of fruit and biscuits, along with a pot of tea. They sat like that for well over an hour, eating and drinking, and whispering soft somethings to each other.

"He's mortal, Daph, we're so close to being rid of him."

"Harry has to be the one to kill him, you know that."

"That doesn't mean we can't help." Daphne smiled at him, shifting around so that she was facing him, straddling his legs.

"So you want us to what, distract the rest of the death eaters while Harry takes the fight to the big snake boy?"

"Something like that. We'll need to draw him out."

"How? He surely knows where we went in Gringotts, he likely checked the cart after he discovered we were there. He's not stupid. He'll put the pieces together, and know we've got all of his horcruxes."

"We'd have to use Harry as bait. Yeah, I'm not a fan of that plan either, but it's the only way to be sure." Hal grimaced even as he said it, and Daphne buried her face in his shoulder.

"Where? It'd have to be away from most people, we don't want unnecessary collateral damage."

"We need backup. Us two are no match for the entirety of the might of the ministry, the death eaters, and the snatchers." They paused in silent thought at that. Daphne chewed on her lower lip.

"Everyone would condemn him attacking Hogwarts," Hal made to protest, but Daphne pressed a finger to his lips, "I'd imagine that the entire order of the phoenix would help us if we said we needed them to protect Hogwarts."

"Daph… There's so many problems with that plan."

"I know." said Daphne, but Hal explained the problems anyway.

"First, we want to avoid collaterals, but Hogwarts is simultaneously filled with innocents and is an utterly priceless monument of historical importance! Second, the school is owned by the death eaters. Riddle controls it now, so we can't even get in without inside help, and how would we get that? Third, we'd need a hell of an alibi for the order to agree to help _us_ we're Slytherins, and hence evil dark wizards." Daphne rolled her eyes.

"We contact the old DA using those coins that I made, ask them to open up a passage in, probably using the room of requirement. Then, we mount a subversive campaign and whip up rumors around the school about Harry Potter being back and looking to cause chaos. Then, after that, we bring in the order through whatever route we used to get in, and fight our way through the school, taking out resistance wherever we find it. If Voldemo-" Hal's hand snapped up and covered her mouth before she could finish the word, "sorry, if Riddle doesn't turn up for that, then Harry shows himself, we evacuate the students, reinforce the castle, and fight." Hal rubbed his hand through his more-than-stubble beard as he thought over the plan.

"That might work. I mean, twenty percent chance it works, but that's better than my plans so far. Give me a month. If no plan has better odds than that one, then sure, that's what we do. We need to be careful to make sure he doesn't, I don't know, make any more Horcruxes in the intermediate period." Hal leaned in to kiss her, but she leaned back.

"Nuh uh. Not till that dumb crappy beard goes." Hal pouted, before he waved his hand and the short hairs that covered his face vanished. Daphne laughed, and closed the distance between them.

The grandfather clock in the corner had struck four by the time that they managed to drag themselves to bed, and the pair didn't appear until late in the afternoon.

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In the end, the four of them decided that Daphne's plan was their best option, especially after a vision that Harry received of Voldemort finding the basin without the locket inside, and feeling the blind panic of the mass murderer. Daphne had changed the coin's date to a week from then, and the next day they spotted an owl circling overhead, apparently confused about why it couldn't see the addressee of the letter it carried. Daphne stepped outside the wards of the safehouse, located in rural Lincolnshire, and the small screech owl landed nearly instantly and offered Daphne the letter attached to its leg. Daphne didn't want to tempt fate by remaining outside, so she returned to the others before checking the letter for any charms or curses, then opening it and reading it out to them.

"'Hog's head, Ariana. Don't go after seven.' That's it, all it says, well apart from the signature. It's signed by a Seamus Finnigan." Harry nodded.

"Irish bloke, half blood, in the DA. We can trust him."

"What's the cover story?" said Susan.

"Well, I was thinking we could tell the truth? Or at least a partial truth, or not an exact lie at least," said Daphne, "what if we just said that we were looking for something that would help us to beat Riddle, not what it is, nor that we've already found and destroyed them all." Hal frowned.

"Won't they wonder why we're sticking around and destabilising the people in charge?"

"Nah, I'd imagine that they'd be grateful for however long we stick around for."

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Even at just half-six in Hogsmeade, nobody was on the streets, fearing the death eaters who killed indiscriminately after the curfew had fallen, and the dementors that roamed around during the dark hours. Hence it was not an issue when the four of them appeared just outside of the Hog's Head, with Hal and Daphne disillusioned, and Harry sharing the invisibility cloak with Susan. Harry knocked three times on the rickety door to the pub, and a head appeared in the grimy window, whose piercingly blue eyes widened when he recognised Harry's face. A latch dragged back, and the door opened, admitting the four of them to the deserted pub, whose floor was masked by uncountable layers of filth built up over the years. The man who had let them in stumped up the stairs, and the four of them followed him up, appearing in a smallish living room with much better standard of cleanliness and hygiene than the bar below.

"What are you doing here? Are you trying to get yourselves killed?"

"We need a way into the school'; we were told you could help us with that." Aberforth nodded slowly.

"Why do you need a way in? What's the plan here?"

"We believe that Riddle hid one of his anchors to life in the castle, and we need to search for it. Unless we destroy it he will not be killable."

"That's a fool's errand, you'll die."

"Probably. I'm comfortable with death, and if it means ridding the world of that madman then it is a price that I'd be willing to pay." Aberforth shook his head sadly.

"Seems my brother got his claws into you well and good, didn't he?"

"I'm not doing it for Albus. I'm doing it because it's right." Aberforth grimaced, and gestured to a painting of a thin looking blonde girl in a summer dress, who turned and walked out of her picture down a tunnel painted into the background.

"It seems you won't be discouraged, and I merely want some peace and quiet. Go then. Run to your deaths if that's what you intend to do, and when that bastard kills you I will say that I told you."

"If Riddle kills Harry," said Susan, "then you'll have more to worry about than a poor sense of humor and a defeatist attitude." They remained in uncomfortable silence for a while, eating the bread and cheese that Aberforth had provided as they waited for the girl to return.

Aberforth grunted as the girl returned, leading a figure behind her. The portrait swung open like the Fat Lady's to reveal a jagged hole in the wall which led to a ladder. Harry descended first, followed by Susan, Daphne, and Hal, and they gathered their bearings in the dark tunnel before a figure impacted Harry, wrapping him in a tight hug. When it pulled back, they saw the face of Seamus, whose visage was marred by scars both old and new, with one eye almost swollen closed. His grin revealed several broken teeth, and one oh his ears was tattered and discoloured.

"Man am I glad to see you! I'd heard rumors, something about a fight in Diagon Alley, they said you duelled you know who to a standstill!" Harry couldn't help but grin at the boy's enthusiasm, and engaged him in conversation as they walked.

"How come you're so beat up?"

"The Carrows run punishment. They're a big fan of cruciatus curses, but when you really piss them off they resort to other, more physical methods of torture." Seamus gestured to the thickest and deepest scar on his face. "I got that one when I freed some first years from the seventh year Slytherins that were practicing the dark arts on em. Most of the time, they just fake the curse and the first years fake their screams, but this time was different. Some of those snakes are right pieces of work, and some of them just like the screamin." Seamus fixed his eye on Hal. "Your name is mud around Slytherin nowadays, cos form what I hear you at least kept them scared and in line while you were around. I bet most of the snakes would kill you if they got the chance."

"Is nobody fighting back?"

"Oh we're fightin. We're just losin is all. We're holed up in the room of requirement, each day another couple of students trickle in, but the Carrows are always lookin for an opportunity to capture us. The castle doesn't really feel like Hogwarts anymore, with all the attacks, fights, and rapes that happen." Hal's frown deepened.

"Rapes?" he asked, and the corridor that they were trudging down darkened noticeably. Seamus nodded grimly, understanding the anger that he was feeling.

"Yeah. Every couple of days some girl gets violated by the death eater trainees. Hell, sometimes the Carrows are the ones doing it. Last week, Dean had to fight off an attack by a sixth year Slytherin. The whole castle isn't safe, and sometimes they even attack other Slytherins. Tracey Davis is in the room with us, she was actually one of the first to join, escaping from those in her own house who wanted to 'claim' her cos she's a half blood." Daphne gritted her teeth in fury before Seamus continued, "So what are you lot doing back here?" A second passed before Hal answered.

"We're looking for something, one of the things that ties Riddle to this plane. We mean to destroy it, and along the way cause as much trouble for our dear new headmaster and teachers. I've got to say that I'm shocked that the Slytherins would fall so quickly and utterly. I had more respect for them than that."

"Well, it's not all of them doing it, it's just that almost all of the ones actually doing it are in Slytherin."

They came to a door, which swung open to reveal the room of requirement which had been divided into four, with the house emblem and colours of each house hanging over one of the four quadrants of the room. In the middle was a large circular area which was common to all, with many bookcases and games for the occupants of the room to entertain themselves with. From their elevated position, they could see that each quadrant was again subdivided into individual rooms, each of which contained a pair of beds. The atmosphere around the gargantuan room was somber, with each person knowing exactly how bad their situation was. Suddenly, a shout rang out from that shared area, and in a moment the occupants of the room were gathered around them whispering excitedly and looking hopeful. Harry stepped forwards, a genuine smile on his face.

"Right, well I'm sure you're all wondering why the hell I'm back, and in short; we need to find something that binds you know who to life, and destroy it. It's a happy coincidence that this searching process will cause a lot of chaos for the people in charge of certain aspects of the school, which I'm sure you'll be willing to help us with." several whoops sounded at Harry's words, and they grinned. A girl from the crowd rushed forwards, nearly throwing herself into Daphne's arms as she broke down in sobs.

"'Stora! Are you hurt?" she said, sinking to the floor and rubbing the inconsolable girl's hair. Tracey Davis came forward and squatted down next to the pair.

"As soon as you didn't turn up at school, they started in on her. At first it was not too bad, just verbal attacks, then when it surfaced about just how much the wannabe death eaters could get away with they turned it up. They tortured her, Crabbe and Goyle led it, then they somehow heard she was planning to come here, and…" she swallowed, and Daphne's face darkened.

"Crabbe and Goyle, you said? Was the final thing them too?" Tracey nodded, and Daphne rose to her feet, wand sliding out into her palm, with crackling energy already gathering at the tip.

"Look after her until I return." She grabbed Hal's arm, who had his own wand out, and left the room, disillusioning them before they left the room.

They walked down the corridors fast, avoiding all contact with other people. The halls of the castle which were usually filled with life, shouts of joy, spells, and laughter were instead filled with silence that hung over the castle like a suffocating blanket. Finally, as they neared the Slytherin common room, they heard a distinctly male sob from their left. Entering the classroom, they saw Draco, his blond head bowed as he wept.

"Malfoy. Explain this." The boy's head shot up and he looked around the room. Seeing nothing he drew his wand.

"Show yourself." Hal flickered into place in front of him, and Draco's wand clattered out of his hand.

"Malfoy, kindly explain how this" he gestured generally, indicating the overall situation, "happened."

"The Carrows. They don't punish anything that a Slytherin does, unless it's directly against them or the Dark Lord. Every sociopath realised that, and seems to think that they'll win favour with the Dark Lord by being utter pigs. No teacher can do anything, not since Sinistra got murdered for protecting a first year half blood from the Carrows. Snape does nothing, he's afraid to take any stand in case the Dark Lord hears of it and decides that he wants the Carrows to be in charge of the entire school."

"I'm going to kill Crabbe and Goyle in twenty minutes. Don't try to stop me, Ensure you have an alibi."

"I know why you're doing this. Get Zabini as well." Malfoy retrieved his wand, and applied a glamor to his face to hide his tears and his weakness, and exited the room. Hal sat heavily on a nearby desk, and span his wand around and around his hand. Daphne appeared in the room, leaning against the stonework. She flicked her wand, and silencing charms went up around the room.

"We knew these people. We ate with them for six years. People don't just change like that do they? Even Crabbe and Goyle…" Hal shook his head sadly.

"They were always nasty pieces of work, but still." silence crept into the room before he continued. "I think there's been enough time for Malfoy to establish an alibi, let's go."

They reapplied the disillusionment charm and stole through the corridors until they reached the section of unusually elaborate wall that marked the secret entrance to the Slytherin common room. Hal pressed the stone that he knew caused the wall to open, something that had removed the need to know the password for the past three years since he had discovered it. The main common room was empty, and Hal was thankful that Salazar had made the Slytherin bedrooms into singles as it would make exacting revenge far easier. Hal and Daphne crept along the corridor to the room that bore Crabbe's name on the plaque, and quickly stripped the wards and enchantments from the door. Daphne pushed it, and it opened without a sound, revealing a room with junk and rubbish covering the floor, with a small path through the trash leading to the bed. Hal stunned the sleeping form of the boy, and wrapped him in ropes, before he levitated him out into the corridor. They then repeated the process with Goyle and Zabini, before they silenced the three boys and revived them.

Looks of shock appeared on each of their faces, and those looks quickly faded into fearful grimaces as they became aware of Daphne. Daphne made them boys float, before rearranging the ropes cocooning them so that an end was free, before attaching the ends of the ropes to the chandelier with a permanent sticking charm. Goyle hung upside down, his face already purple, while Crabbe was the right way up, although his mouth was opening and closing soundlessly. Blaise was rotating slowly, looking as though he regretted his decisions that had led him to this point. Hal stepped forwards.

"Well, I'm sure you know why you're here. I don't take kindly to rapists, thieves, or murderers, and I hear that by my good fortune you three neatly fall into all three categories. Here's how it's going to work. You'll die. How much pain you are in, and how long it takes, is entirely up to you."

Hal stepped forwards, holding a goblin-forged dagger that had imbibed a rare and deadly poison that thinned the blood such that any wound would not stop bleeding. The danger with this particular poison was that there was no real way to treat it; the only case of a person surviving an attack with it was when the cut was so tiny that they could merely take blood replenishing potions every two hours. Hal was not going to allow a repeat of that occurrence. Hal stepped towards Goyle, and sliced deeply into the man's cheeks, and the blood began to pour down his face and into his eyes, dripping off of his hair and onto the floor. He handed the dagger to Daphne, who cut into the bare and exposed feet of Crabbe. Blaise's eyes were wide with fear and brimmed with tears.

"You should have thought about this before you attacked my sister." Daphne simply slit the boy's throat. Hal and Daphne left the common room, uncaring of the bloody footprints that they left as they made their way back into the abandoned classroom, before finally cleaning them before returning back to the seventh floor and the room of requirement.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

"It has been brought to my attention," said Snape, standing on the raised dais in the great hall, "that three students in Slytherin have been murdered. Yes, it was in fact discovered by the younger sibling of one of the three, a fact that is to me, deeply disturbing. Any person, student or staff, who is found to have knowledge of this attack, and who does not come forward, will be punished as equally guilty." Murmurs broke out around the hall at his words, with the majority of the student body being well aware of the identities of those killed. Not one of them would come forward, even if they did know, because the three killed had been known to have been responsible for a wave of brutal assaults and crime of their own. Not that many of the students had a lot of experience with death, despite the change in leadership. The hall fell back into silence as Alecto stood to talk.

"You brats need to realise one thing. The men killed belonged to the Dark Lord, and so to have killed them is not only a murder, but also an act of treason. You need to be aware of the fact that those who belong to the Dark Lord are above you, and you should act accordingly." Angry mutters spread across the room, before a great rattling boom from just outside the room shook the floor. The Carrows hurried out of the room, wands in their hands as the rest of the teachers fought to re-establish order among the students. At least, they were seen to be doing so. None of the teachers did anything more than ask for quiet.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

The next few weeks saw a marked decrease in the number of attacks by students on other students, as a new poltergeist seemed to have moved into the castle, who was never seen yet whose effects were clearly felt by the entire castle. That decrease was matched, however, by an increase in the punishments that the Carrows dished out to students who, intentionally or otherwise, put their toes out of line. The punishments culminated in Alecto killed a second year half-blood who had apparently badmouthed her. They found her body in the entrance hall, attached to the stone by vicious metal spikes thrust through her midsection, and the entire school was kept in detention as the teachers tried to find the culprit. Lord Voldemort had arrived at the school the day after the woman had been removed from the wall, and had stayed for around two days in order to search the castle for Harry, who he was convinced was behind the attack.

In truth, Daphne had been behind the attack, as she had been given free reign to cause as much chaos as possible, and given the explicit directive to draw Voldemort in. While that had been happening, Hal, Susan, and Harry resumed the teaching of advanced defensive magic to the students who were holed up in the room of requirements. The progress that they made in those few short weeks far outstripped that which they had made over their fifth year, perhaps because they had nothing else to do, and perhaps because they had a true incentive to become good at defending themselves. Harry had also contacted the remains of the order of the phoenix, who had joined them in the castle to prepare for an all out assault on the death eaters who remained within. Hal spent many evenings planning and plotting with the more senior order members, as well as all the aurors that belonged to their number. They had no illusions. Fighting this fight would pit their own strength against the might of the death eaters, giants, snatchers, werewolves, and vampires. Whoever Voldemort had convinced to join his cause would come to fight and protect whatever promise that the snake-faced man had given to them. They would have to act decisively, to eliminate the immediate threats before they could fortify the castle against the forces that Voldemort could muster. Remus had informed them that Voldemort had taken Dumbledore's wand from his grave, and Hal's eyes had widened, half in disgust at the defilement of who they considered to be a great man, and half because he realised what that meant. Harry alone realised that Voldemort possessed the elder wand, but that it wouldn't work properly for him, as both Draco and Snape still lived.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

"Harry, you don't have to do this. Screw the prophecy." Susan spoke softly to Harry as they lay in the darkness of their small room that the room of requirement had provided. Harry didn't respond, but Susan knew he wasn't asleep. How could he sleep when the next day would be the day that he either died or defeated the most evil wizard of the last thousand years? Susan shifted over and buried her face into his chest, feeling the familiar arms wrap around her, but they brought her no comfort. Not when the next day they could be cold and dead.

"Suse, you know that's not true. I need to do this." his voice was hoarse and strained, his arms tightened around her briefly.

"Run. For once in your life, be selfish. You've given everything to killing him, isn't that enough?"

"Not everything, not yet." Harry spoke, almost to himself.

"So you're going to run blindly towards death? Stop being so noble… please."

"I never told you a nuance of the prophecy did I?" she shook her head, resting her head flat against his chest, hearing the strong, steady beat of his heart as he spoke. "It didn't necessarily refer to me. It could have been any of two children, whose parents had thrice defied Riddle. It could have been Neville just as easily as it could have been me, but he's dead now. I've researched it since, and there's literally nobody else to whom it could refer. If I don't do it, then nobody else can kill him. Besides, 'neither can live while the other survives.' Riddle's not just going to let me run to Australia, he'd hunt me to hell and back if it meant killing me." Harry's free hand toyed with a lock of Susan's hair as he spoke. Susan was silent, digesting his words. She sniffled, having left a tiny puddle of tears on Harry's chest.

"Don't you _dare_ die on me. I'd never forgive you."

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

One Hogsmeade weekend in early june marked the day that their plan was to be initiated, and with it came a great sense of unease in the room of requirement. The past few months had done much to destabilise the management of the castle, to an even greater extent than it had been disrupted during the events of their second year, when the chamber of secrets was opened. Twelve surviving order members, all those who had managed to get time off of work and who were prepared to die for the cause, were gathered in the room. Silence reigned over the amassed members, who knew that they could all very well die that day. The first thing that they had to do was to kill any remaining death eaters in the castle to wrest control back over from Voldemort's side to their own, then they had to evacuate or protect the students who didn't want to fight, before they secured the castle against Voldemort's inevitable retribution. After that, Harry had to find and isolate Voldemort, and then kill him. It was a long shot, and everyone in the group knew it. It was a mark of how dire the situation was that each and every person there, including the newly married Remus and Tonks, was willing to lay down their lives to achieve this goal.

Hal was standing next to Daphne, clad in matching suits of dragonhide armour which covered them from the neck downwards, providing the wearer with an almost impervious defence against stunning spells and all but the most violent curses. The armour was designed to be practical, not restricting movement in any way, but also to be utterly terrifying to fight against, as the hide was enchanted to absorb all light that was incident upon it, meaning that the wearer appeared as a black void superimposed upon the background, making it hard to see them and even harder to aim properly at them. They would be wearing hoods made of the same material, so that the only way you would be able to directly view them was through the light of their eyes shining out from under the hoods. Harry had foregone the enchantments on his set of armour, as it was fairly important to the task that he was easily recognisable; nothing would draw Voldemort out of hiding except for Harry now that he knew that they were hunting Horcruxes. Susan would not be fighting, because while she knew how, and was capable, she did not enjoy it, nor was it necessary for her to fight.

Finally, it was time for the plan to be initiated. The fifteen figures entered the great hall at dinnertime, as it was the only way that they could guarantee that they would find Snape, Amycus Carrow, and the other replacement death eater that Voldemort had installed in place of Alecto. The whispering throughout the already nearly silent great hall stopped immediately as they entered, with the more sensible students moving quickly to the edges of the room. Harry strode forwards.

"How dare you sit there, where he sat? He trusted you. You were the first amongst his followers, most powerful, most trusted, and you killed him. You looked him in the eyes as he pleaded, and killed him!" Snape rose to his feet, drawing his wand as Harry drew his, but Hal struck first. A silent cutting curse flew towards Amycus, impacting him on the neck and severing his head neatly from the rest of his body. The other death eater met a similar, albeit more gruesome, fate at the end of Daphne's wand. Snape didn't hesitate, leaping forwards and turned into the half incorporeal form that enabled the death eaters to fly around as smoke. He crashed through the huge stained glass window at the rear of the great hall, showering shards of glass and connective metal pieces over the hall. Silence fell once again, before McGonagall spoke.

"I assume there's a _very_ good reason for the murder of two people in the great hall in front of the entire school."

"Professor! We need to evacuate the school of students, then place our own defences around it. You know Voldemort isn't going to sit by and let us have the school." McGonagall nodded.

"I suppose this is a part of some grand plan to draw him out of wherever he's hiding. Very well. The castle will be evacuated to Hogsmeade, then we will fortify ourselves. I presume you have more people willing to fight, because you know that twenty-odd people won't be enough to hold the castle."

"Yes, they're waiting in the room of requirement on the seventh floor. We have at least fifty waiting there to fight, plus any here who are willing."

"Alright," McGonagall turned to the waiting students, "Anybody who wishes to fight, if they are of age, may remain behind and assist the teacher in fortifying and then defending the castle against the imminent assault by you know who. All others will join Filch in the entrance hall before they go down to the village to wait out the attack. Do not collect your personal belongings, as you risk becoming part of the assault." McGonagall turned to Harry as he made to leave. "Potter, it's good to see you."

The students filed out, except for a clear two hundred students who remained behind to fight. They, along with those from the room of requirement, were split into ten-person fighting units. The teachers took a couple of groups each, and led them to key points around the perimeter of the castle where they began to activate the defensive wards which had been laid hundreds of years ago by the very founders of the school themselves. Powerful magic streamed into the air, aided by the spells that the others were sending from their wands alongside it. Hal found himself kneeling in the front courtyard, wand lying on the ground in front of him, chanting as he carved runes into the flagstones. All around him, statues and suits of armour stood, hefting weapons and implements of death in their animated hands, some of them, such as the carved life-size stone basilisk from the chamber of secrets, were cracking the flagstones as they moved around. Daphne was repeating the process across the courtyard, and the pair worked their way towards each other, while Harry was talking in a hurried voice to the teachers about their plans and strategies, and about the entire goal of the event. According to McGonagall, who had seen it when he appeared some weeks before, Voldemort had acquired a new serpentine familiar, who seemed even larger and more deadly than Nagini had.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Hal stood in the courtyard, looking up to the hills above, where thousands of hooded witches and wizards were gathered. Hal swallowed, and reached out blindly, clutching at Daphne's hand out of fear. Suddenly, the translucent shield that they had erected over the castle flashed white once, before it was lit up by innumerable spells that shot towards it like artillery fire from the top of the hill that faced towards the castle. Hal twirled his wand in his hand, a calm settling over him as his magic boiled within his veins. The now familiar heady sense of power settled over him as his hood lit up with the violet glow of his eyes, and he squeezed Daphne's hand before he let it drop.

"If I die today, I'd regret nothing." Daphne nodded.

"Nothing." she echoed back at him.

The translucent shield groaned under stress as a beam of brilliant white light hit it from the edge of the hill opposite them. Large cracks appeared in the dome, and Hal raised his eyebrows. The shield began to burn in the air, dissipating into nothing as it crumbled, before a huge explosion rocked the castle, which Hal knew meant the wooden bridge leading to the castle had been destroyed. They had up to five minutes before the death eaters were upon them, and Hal was thankful that it was not a full moon tonight. A low rumbling roar went up from the stone bridge that led into the castle, heralding the arrival of the giants that had joined Voldemort. Cracks and flashes burst around the courtyard as death eaters flew in as half-smoke, disrupting the defences and enabling the snatchers to make inroads around the courtyard. Giants lumbered towards them as they took up a stand around the doorway, giving ground to the overwhelming forces and holding a tighter choke point that mitigated the overwhelming advantage that the near endless numbers gave the attacking forces. Hal and Daphne, supported by McGonagall and her group of student fighters, were forced evers so slowly back into the castle, and each step backwards cost the attacking forces dearly in blood and lives. Hal shot a spear of grey light into a giant's head, causing the nine-meter tall being to fall backwards and drop its huge club, crushing many snatchers under the dead weight that it provided. Daphne turned their assailant's curses back against them with deadly accuracy, picking off the strongest and most capable fighters from the swelling throng charging them. McGonagall transfigured whatever she could lay her eyes on into razor sharp fragments, or poisoned spikes, or tangling rope, standing fast against the waves upon waves of bodies that threw themselves towards the entrance. One by one the students who were supporting them fell, either to the spellfire that was launched towards them or from simple exhaustion. Inch by bloody inch they gave up ground until they were standing inside the doorway, when Hal tapped a small blue rune carved into the limestone trim, and the runes that they had carved into the cobbles of the castle courtyard flared to life, trapping their assailants in the courtyard as it filled with magic. The very stones of the castle glowed white hot as the magic that the stones had been absorbing for hundreds of years was released in a single moment, obliterating those unfortunate enough to be inside the courtyard with a bone rattling boom that left a sharp ringing sound in the ears of anybody too close to the explosion. Hal waved his wand at his ears, and the ringing subsided. They had bought perhaps three minutes with their last resort.

"Inside. Lock and bar the main door. It'll hold for maybe another five minutes." McGonagall's voice was stern as usual, but there was a note of panic in her normally stoic tone that gave Hal pause.

Hal looked up at a clapping noise to see Dolohov walking towards them, his hands covered in gore while the death eaters spread out behind him.

"Very impressive, I must say. You've held out far longer than you ought to have, but now that you've used that last resort of yours you must realise that you're doomed. Surrender now, and the dark lord will have mercy. You will be a valuable addition to our forces."

"I will join Riddle when hell freezes over, and when magic departs from the world." Dolohov nodded.

"Noble, then. Very well, I will grant you a quick death."

Hal pushed McGonagall and Daphne aside as a fireball rocketed towards them, turning his face away from the heat as it washed over his armour. Dolohov chuckled as Hal emerged from the flames unscathed, and shot a jet of purple light towards him, which Hal dodged. Hal grunted, sending forth a wave of light as he steadied himself on his feet, fighting exhaustion, but Dolohov merely blocked the wave with a stone slab that rose from the ground to intercept it. The other death eaters were not so fortunate, and four of them fell to the floor, the life ripped from them with a scream.

"That was dark, Selwyn. Are you sure you're not a new dark lord in the making?" Dolohov was evidently one of those fighters that taunted their opponent as they fought. Hal answered his barb with a flurry of dark arrows that poured from his wand, as though shadows had taken on an edge and launched themselves at the man. One such arrow impacted the man's left forearm, ripping through the flesh and passing through, causing Dolohov to scream out in pain. The death eater responded in kind, yelling some incantation in old norse which caused the air around Hal to burst into spontaneous flame, which once again failed to affect him through his armour. Hal spared a glance towards Daphne and McGonagall, who had dispatched their own assailants and were again focusing on holding back the tide of minions that threw themselves towards the castle doors. Hal grunted and fell to his knees as an overpowered dark cutting curse ripped through his armour and lacerated his shoulder, and reached out with his magic. His dark intent leant power to the action, and the very space in which Dolohov existed became smaller, crushing the man with unstoppable force as space contracted around him. Hal let off the spell, rising from his position on the floor and sparing a glance towards the bloody mess of flesh and bone shards on the floor that was all that remained of Dolohov. Hal hoped Harry would accomplish his goal soon, Hal thought to himself as he closed the wound on his shoulder. There was no way they could hold out much longer at this rate.

AN

Two more chapters, at most, before the main arc of the story is done. I don't think I'll continue it much past Hogwarts, maybe a feel-good chapter to tie up loose ends after the dust settles, but probably not too much more. I'm not too happy with how this turned out honestly, but this is the best that I feel I'd produce, even if i worked on it for another week.

/AN


	12. Chapter 12: Final

Harry's jaw clenched as he scanned the map that was busy with names, searching for his target. Everything would be for absolutely nothing if he was not able to find and kill Voldemort as, despite the incredible powers of his friends and the resolve of the defenders of hogwarts, they were facing off against the entire magical government of Britain. Harry cursed, as his eyes roved over the mess of ink in the courtyard.

Suddenly, the black mess of names in the castle courtyard vanished, leaving just three names remaining, an instant before the sky lit up as though it was daytime and the entire castle shook with magical force. Harry steadied himself on the wall before looking again at the map, whis time searching over the perimeter of the grounds. He saw two names standing in the old boathouse, Snape and Voldemort were standing there, and presumably talking. Harry swept his cloak over himself and took off at a sprint, dodging past fighters and darting through the melee towards his task that could literally decide the fate of the entire war.

Harry slowed as he approached the boathouse, calming his breathing and silencing his footsteps with his wand. Harry knew that he couldn't try to kill voldemort before his new snake was dead, and he also knew that Voldemort would protect the snake with everything that he had; it was his last tether to life. Harry stepped through the open doorway, passing through the privacy charm and hearing the high and cold voice once again.

"But you see, Severus, therein lies my problem. I did not kill Albus Dumbledore, you did. Therefore I cannot be the true master of the elder wand until you are dead."

"But surely that Potter boy cannot match you, even without the unbeatable wand? I heard that his wand was broken nearly half a year ago, surely that has solved your problem."

"Severus, it is not merely the fact of the child of the prophecy, it is the fact that with this wand I shall become unbeatable, indestructible. I will be a god amongst sheep, and so, my most loyal and faithful servant, you shall serve your master to the end, as is asked of all my servants." Snape's face paled.

" _ **Kill him**_."

The snake didn't hesitate, but struck instantly, latching around the man's forearm and pumping venom into the man's body. He was already dead, his body just didn't know it yet. Voldemort span around and swept out of the room, and Harry waited five more seconds before he hurried over to the man and swept off his cloak. Snape swallowed.

"Sir, you're aware he's mistaken. Draco was the master of the wand, but I disarmed Draco weeks ago, and so I am the master of the elder wand." Snape nodded weakly, and a smirk spread across his face. A silvery liquid squeezed out of the corner of his eye, and the man captured it in a glass vial, handing the memories to Harry with a shaking hand.

"Take it to the pensieve. There are things you must know. Y-you have your mother's eyes."

Snape's hand dropped to his side, and his eyes took on a glassy look to them. Harry stowed the vial safely in his pocket, and straightened up, transfiguring Snape's body into a paper boat, which he floated out over the black lake, before incinerating it with a gout of fire. A loud voice rang out over the castle and the grounds, as though the very earth was speaking to them.

"You have fought well, and lost many. Yet the futility of your struggle evades you. I command my forces to withdraw, for magical blood spilled without purpose is a great crime. Dispose of your dead with dignity, and make your final preparations. You have two hours. Harry Potter, I now speak directly to you. You allowed greater witches and wizards to lay down their lives for you, hiding behind their legs as you cower in fear. Come and face me in the black forest before those two hours are over and I shall leave the rest of the school, and those defending it, untouched. Should you not face me, I will enter the fray personally, and all who block me from you shall be slain. Two hours; you have until midnight."

The ground fell silent, and Harry frowned. He knew that he would win any confrontation, being the master of the elder wand, and yet the snake remained alive, meaning that Voldemort was still immortal. Harry donned the cloak once again, not wishing to face his friends' incriminating stares, or to hear their vain words of encouragement. Voldemort had gotten to Harry.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry bent over the pensieve, falling forwards into the memory of a man he despised. A soft green meadow materialised around him, and a pair of girls laughed as they played in the grass. One girl was tall and dark haired, bone thin and clearly the older, while the other was shorter and a redhead. The younger girl picked a flower from among the grasses, and held it out flat on the palm of her hand, inviting the older girl to look. Even Harry could see, from his far-off position, that it was opening and closing rapidly, and the younger girl laughed until the elder slapped her wrist away, causing the flower to fall to the ground.

"I told you not to do that, _freak_!" Harry watched the younger girl's hand touch her lips, with tears threatening to spill out from her eyes.

A tall boy appeared from behind a tree, and the older girl ran, calling for her sister to follow, but she remained still with tears rolling down her cheeks. A flower plucked itself from the ground and floated over to the younger girl, nudging her cheek and making her gasp in wonder.

The scene dissolved, and Harry found himself standing on the hogwarts express, following the pair of young sorcerers through the crowded train as they searched for a compartment. They settled in one that contained two boys, and Harry found himself excitedly recognising his father. Conversation meandered its way to the house system.

"There's only really three houses you could want to be in, Ravenclaw where the smart people go, Slytherin is for the ambitious people, and Gryffindor for the brave ones."

"But, Sev… what if we end up in different houses?" Harry's father snorted in amusement.

"You're muggle-born, you'll almost certainly be a Gryffindor." Snape rolled his eyes as the scene dissolved once again.

This time, Harry looked on as Snape was hoisted up by his ankle and dangled over a laughing crowd by his father, only to be rescued by his mum. Blank shock descended over Harry, and he missed the transition from scene to scene.

This time Harry was on a mountaintop, standing next to Dumbledore in front of a weeping adult Snape.

"The Dark Lord means to kill her!"

"Then perhaps you should have considered this before you ran to tell him what you knew."

"P-please. You're the only one who can save her now."

"I will try. Now the question becomes… What will you give me in return."

" _Anything._ " The fog washed the scene from Harry's vision, and he found himself in Dumbledore's office.

"Y-you said you could protect her!" Snape was weeping as he shouted at the old man, anger mixed with sadness present in his expression.

"I said that I'd try. Besides, your fury is with Pettigrew; he is the one who betrayed the Potters. Besides, her son remains."

"It matters not! T-the dark lord is dead."

"But you and I both know he shall return. And when he does, Harry will be in grave danger." Snape swallowed at the aged headmaster's words.

"No one can know."

The scene shifted once more, and the books on the shelves changed, while the two teachers aged twelve years in a breath.

"I must admit, Severus, that I am concerned by Potter's friendship with Selwyn. I fear that the influence of that family could push Harry from the path he must walk."

"Harold would sacrifice his own life if it meant killing the Dark Lord. His own father was murdered mere weeks before Potter's own parents. Hal would help him with anything that needs to be done, I'm sure of it."

"I've been meaning to speak to you about what must be done."

"Oh?"

"Yes, some nasty but unfortunately essential business to destroy Lord Voldemort. He created horcruxes, seven of them in fact. He only intended to make six, but by pushing his soul so far he destabilised it enough that when the killing curse rebounded upon him it split his soul once again. The fragment then latched onto the only vessel nearby that was capable of sustaining it. Harry. A part of Voldemort lives within him, it is the reason why Harry can see into the Dark Lord's mind, and it must be destroyed if Voldemort is to truly become mortal." Snape frowned deeply and waited a full ten seconds before speaking, but when he did, his voice dripped with venom and incredulity.

"You mean to tell me that the boy has been kept alive as a lamb for slaughter? You've been grooming him until he is ready to accept his death…" In that moment, Dumbledore looked older and sadder than Harry had ever seen.

"Yes. He must die. And Voldemort must be the one to do the deed; that is essential."

"What kind of life is it to have-"

"Don't tell me that you've developed feelings for the child! You hated his father!" Dumbledore was nearly shouting at his potions master. Snape rose from his chair, equally angry.

"For _him?_ _Expecto Patronum!_ "

A doe sprang from his wand and bounded around the room before leaping through a window.

"Lily?"

"Always."

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry rose from the pensieve, confused and angry. While the ritual in the summer before his fifth year had broken the curse placed upon him by Voldemort, the fragment of a soul within his head was, as far as he knew, untouched. Harry examined his mind, and quickly found the dark mass within, pressing up against his head. He knew that what Dumbledore had said was true, but that didn't stop the feelings of betrayal. Harry reached into the pouch around his neck and drew out the snitch that he had been left in Dumbledore's will. Pressing it to his lips he whispered to it.

"I am at the close. I go to my death."

With a soft click, the snitch opened, revealing the pure black stone that he knew was the resurrection stone. Harry swept his cloak around him and strode from the office, turning the magical stone three times in his hand as he walked silently through the deserted halls of Hogwarts. Dumbledore's manipulation and lies to him rang in his ears, as he now knew that everything the old man had said and done to him was for the purpose of preparing himself to die at the hand of Voldemort. To Harry, nothing now mattered, save for the snake. After he died, the snake must be killed, and only then would Voldemort be mortal.

Harry found himself walking through the grounds, lead in his heart, before he stopped. Around him was stood a small crowd of people. Remus Lupin, Tonks, Sirius, Amelia Bones, Daphne's father, and at the back, arm in arm, stood James and Lily Potter. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but words cheated him.

"I'm so proud, Son." The other messy-haired wizard said softly. "You've grown so strong, and yet you even have the strength to do what you must rather than merely fleeing when that would be the easier option." Harry swallowed.

"I'm so sorry. None of you were supposed to die. And Remus, your child…"

"Teddy will grow up knowing that his mother and father died fighting a despotic madman. One day, maybe, he will understand."

"Does it hurt? To die?"

"It's quicker and easier than falling asleep." Sirius said, a grim expression on his unmarred and handsome face.

"Stay with me."

"Until the end." Harry's mother spoke, and Harry swallowed his bitter tears, walking forwards into the forest. The crowd followed him, not snapping a twig or crunching a leaf, yet their presence lent him boldness.

"You think he's coming?" Two death eaters were stood up ahead of them in a small clearing.

"Nah. I think Potter's a coward who'd allow his friends to die for him before he puts himself in danger. Nobody even saw him fighting."

"Hardly anyone was able to get in. Those bastards in the courtyard didn't let anyone even get close. There were only three of them in the end, but they held for over an hour." The taller man grunted.

"That Selwyn kid is strong, certainly. The Dark Lord would give anything to get him on side. Plus the Greengrass bitch."

"Yeah, but way I hear it, they'd die sooner than they join him."

"That's an hour and fifty. If he's not come by now…"

"Let's go back. It would be bad for us if we arrive late with no good news."

Harry followed them, keeping his distance from the pair until they came to a clearing. Harry felt the shaft of his wand against his forearm, but refrained from drawing it.

"My Lord, no sign of the Potter boy." Voldemort breathed in before opening his red eyes, his wand held horizontally in front of him loosely in both hands.

"I was so sure… I thought he'd come. I was mistaken." Harry whipped off the cloak, appearing in the clearing.

"You weren't."

"Harry Potter. The boy who lived, came to die. _Avada Kedavra!_ " A flash of green, and the sound of rushing death, before white filled his vision.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry was, surprisingly, conscious. His thoughts floated along and moved around in his mind's eye, thinking about nothing in particular, before a stunning realisation hit him. Evidently, he was more than some disembodied thought, as he was clearly lying on some surface. As soon as he realised this, he also found that he had eyes, and a full body. Harry found that he didn't need his glasses here, wherever here actually was.

As soon as he thought that errant thought, the pure white scenery changed, becoming a peaceful garden with a quietly babbling brook and several benches. A soft whimper caught his ear, and he suddenly felt ashamed of his nakedness, which caused him to be immediately clothed. "Harry. My brave boy." Harry looked up and found his father walking towards him through the winding paths of the garden. "Come, sit with me. We have much to discuss." James Potter indicated a bench nearby, and Harry sat.

"Dad… I'm so sorry. If I hadn't…"

"If you hadn't been born, you mean? Never apologise for existing, Harry. Besides, Voldemort would have killed us anyway, the damned prophecy is the cause of our death, besides Voldemort himself, of course." Silence took the scene, before the whimpering sound reached their ears again.

"What is that?" asked Harry.

"That is something beyond our help. Voldemort's tragic and mutilated soul fragment that resided in your scar until around… five minutes ago."

"I'm no longer a horcrux?"

"No. That problem is dealt with."

"You're speaking as if I could go back."

"That's because you can. You have a choice, stay in this garden, and allow your friends to deal with that menace now that he is missing almost all of his links to life, or return."

"Why do I get a choice?" Harry's tone was a mixture of fearful and excited, and he leaned forwards, resting his forearms on his knees awaiting his answer.

"You are the master of death, Harry. You, and only you, get such a choice."

"The cloak… and the stone, as well as the wand. So it's all true?"

"Yes, all of it. Your ancestor, Ignotus Peverell, met Death on a journey, and outsmarted him. In crafty reward, he offered them a reward, and yet two of the brothers joined death less than a month later. Only Ignotus survived, and he met Death later, as an equal. You, on the other hand, are more than Death's equal. You get a choice as to whether you die."

"I have to go back, don't I."

"Yes. Your friends wouldn't really stand a chance at defeating Voldemort if you didn't. I know Hal's strong, but even he wouldn't be able to beat both Voldemort and all of his followers."

"I need to leave."

"One last thing. Occasionally, the Greatest Power decides to bestow upon a person more than usual strength. Merlin and Dumbledore spring to mind. Similarly, the Great Enemy often bestows strength to those who would cause ruin and chaos. Occasionally, both of them will give strength to the same person. You have been blessed by this Power, while Voldemort is empowered by the Enemy. You should be aware, though, that your friend Hal is one of that rarer type, blessed by both; he has no obligation to be a force for good, and yet he has no compulsion to evil. Be incredibly careful around him, give him no reason to turn evil. If he were to want to lay waste to the world, he could do it." Harry swallowed.

"How do you know all of this?"

"Death asked me to tell you these things. Don't return here for another eighty or so years, and take good care of Susan. Your mother sends her love. Always know, Harry, that we're proud of you." Harry's throat went dry as the world around him shifted out of focus, and the smell of pine and mud filled his nose.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Harry lay motionless on the grass, deliberately not moving as he heard a slight scuffle behind him. "M-my Lord!"

"Leave me! I'm fine! Is the boy dead? You! Inspect the boy!" Harry heard a barking laugh as a figure approached him, before the rustle of robes could be heard and the curtain of hair fell around him, obscuring him from sight. A hand slipped into his robes, feeling the pulse of his heart beating in his chest.

"Is Draco alive? Is my boy still living?" the woman whispered to him.

"Yes." Harry breathed back. The soft hand retreated from his robes, and the woman stood.

"He is dead." Voldemort laughed his cruel high laugh, striding forward as he twirled the elder wand in his hand.

" _Crucio!_ " cried Voldemort, but the pain that Harry expected did not come, and he kept himself limp as the magic tossed him around. His glasses flew off of his face and the resurrection stone slipped into the grass. Finally Voldemort put him down, and rough hands shoved his glasses back onto his face.

"Now, back to the castle for a little… celebration." Voldemort levitated Harry's body, in front of him, and the death eaters processed out from the forest, destroying trees and burning a path through the forest as they marched back to the castle. Voldemort placed Harry on the ground before magnifying his voice.

"Harry Potter is dead. Come and meet your new master in the courtyard."

Laying there on the ground as the courtyard filled with people was the hardest thing Harry had ever done, and as he peeked through his eyelashes he observed the faces of those that entered the cobbled yard. Hal and Daphne were among the first, and Hal's eyes betrayed a moment of shock before a calculating look of realisation spread across his face. His eyes flicked from the Dark Lord to the snake coiled beside him. Daphne's expression was as unreadable as ever, but it was McGonagall's shout that came closest to making him stand and fight.

"You have all fought bravely, and yet all of you have lost. Do not worry, for Lord Voldemort is merciful, and you shall remain unharmed as long as you lay down your arms. All magical blood is precious, and as such none of you shall be wasted in my new regime." Suddenly, Hal's voice sounded in his head.

" _I'll kill the snake, then protect you while you take out the bastard. Three, two, one._ "

Hal's wand snapped forwards, and a bolt of lightning arced from the tip of the wooden shaft towards the snake, instantly reducing it to ashes. Voldemort screamed, but the waves of darkness that shot towards Hal clashed upon Daphne's immovable shield. Voldemort's followers scrambled to find battle positions as Harry sprang to his feet, wand in hand. Voldemort screamed in anger as he saw his last tether to the world killed, followed by the seemingly impossible resurrection of his nemesis. Voldemort's wand swung towards Harry, and the same shimmering pearlescent shield formed around them, insulating them entirely from the outside world as they fought, while Hal and Daphne took on the massed death eaters that were throwing themselves into combat. Unfortunately for the death eaters, many of the most skilled amongst their number had already been killed, and so they were little more than cannon fodder for the pair of supernaturally powerful duellists. Many of the remaining fighters from Hogwarts tried to aid them, but found that a shield had also been erected in front of them, preventing from aiding the pair, but also protecting them from harm.

Daphne's cutting curse took off the heads of four death eaters, while Hal threw balls of black flames with his left hand, and simply pulped death eaters with his wand. The cobbles under his feet began to melt, and he was forced to move from his location as the ground he was standing on began to burn his feet even through his dragonhide boots. Meanwhile, within the shield, Harry was locked in a duel with Voldemort, channeling a beam of pure magic towards the killing curse that Voldemort was emitting from his wand, and halting the green beam it its tracks. Voldemort began to crumble, his skin slaking off as the wand that he was using refused to fight its true master. Blood seeped from Voldemort's every pore as his flesh turned to ash and his bones crumbled. Silence fell as the shield dropped, and the boy who lives stood, holding the elder wand in his hand and with his eyes shining like two emeralds in the night, the same colour as the killing curse that started, and ended, his story.

One by one, the defeated death eaters turned to flee, before a wave of violet hit them and held them in place. Hal then went from person to person, breaking into their mind and seeing the horrors that they'd committed, before doling out judgement to them.

A mere twelve death eaters remained after he was finished, from over a hundred that had been frozen by his magic.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

Rebuilding is never easy, especially when everyone has lost something, or someone. Pain is never merely skin deep, and wounds can fester under the surface while everything appears alright on top. That is how things had been for the last seventeen years in magical Britain, with blood supremacists and magical bigotry running rife in all levels of government, and a huge level of corruption even up to the highest levels of government. Now, however, with the gangrenous tissues removed, the healing process could begin. A new institution, separate from the ministry for magic, was set up to ensure that muggle-born witches and wizards are treated fairly, get proper access to school books and wands of the highest quality, and are not discriminated against in school or in the workforce. Werewolves also benefited from the same organisation, and actual, proper research into a cure or vaccine for the condition was done. In all, magical Britain was becoming a place worth fighting and dying for.

The magical population had been devastated, with less than half of adult wizards surviving Voldemort's one year of reign, but they would endure and recover.

Harry studied under a master in transfiguration, achieving his mastery in the subject before he turned his hand to politics, using his power in the wizengamot to force change for the better, while Susan made a huge amount of money selling a brand of enchanted scrolls and books that enabled the immediate fetching of information from a central library, ensuring economic mobility for those worse off in the wizarding world, as they would have access to unlimited information for the price of five galleons for a scroll, or twenty for a book. A fabled enchantress took her in, and taught her all that there was to know about enchantments and runes.

Daphne dove into the department of mysteries, and unravelled the secrets of magic from the front line, using her unparalleled knowledge of charms to aid her in the research that she and the other unspeakables did into all areas, such as time, death, and the fabled pocket dimension of Avalon. Hal took a 'better approach,' studying magic from theory and mathematics, and making just as much progress into the mysteries of magic as Daphne did, which frustrated her to no end. Hal would always take great pleasure in winding her up about the fact that she needed the object right there in order to discover the slightest detail about it, whereas he could theorise objects before they turned out to even exist.

( | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | ¦ | )

 _ **Eighteen years later (Harry is 38)**_

Harry stood on the platform, billowing steam obscuring his vision as he held the hand of a ten year old boy, and a twelve year old girl. The boy had Susan's hair but Harry's eyes, glasses included, while the girl was dark haired but shared susan's freckles. Through the mist emerged Hal, wheeling a handsome trunk along the ground as an eleven year old boy chattered excitedly up at him. Daphne walked next to him, leading a five year old by the hand. Harry grinned as he saw his friends, along with their offspring that looked exactly like Daphne's late father had.

"Had trouble getting here?" asked Daphne.

"Not really. This one was being difficult about his age and not being able to go to Hogwarts, despite the fact that he likely knows more magic now than most third years." Harry indicated the ten year old as he spoke. "Milly got the best marks in the year last year, and I have to say that I'm so glad that your kids aren't going to share a year with mine. No offence to Milly, but she'd get destroyed by the child of the two smartest people I know." Harry continued with a chuckle, and Susan laughed and hit him gently on the shoulder.

"Behave!" she admonished.

Amelia and Cyrus stowed their trunks on the train, returning to say farewell to their parents as the whistle blew, before hurrying on board.

AN

This was super hard to write, and it was far too short too. I just couldn't find a better way to end it, and round off the story. It felt like Voldemort went down a little too easily, but you've got to remember that Harry was the master of the wand that Voldemort was trying to use against him, so obviously it wouldn't work all that well.

I used the explanation for Harry's survival being that he was the master of death at the time, and so could naturally choose to die, or not for that matter. Harry does not break the elder wand here, as he knows that he might need it later.

Despite setting Hal up to fall to darkness, I didn't. I was bored of writing this by the end in all honesty, so Hal stays nice and light. I felt that stretching out the story would have made it worse, and so here we are. Hope you enjoyed. Please review if you liked it, or not is fine too. Peace.

/AN


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